Our Stupid Moonlit Romance
by UsuakariTOT
Summary: When he entered Club Khonsu, Bakura sought only to drink away his troubles, but then he met Mariku, and it became so much more. Who is this beautiful yet violent boy, what is his connection to Malik, and why can't Bakura seem to forget his face?
1. Prologue

**A/N- **This is my second chapter fic in the Yugioh genre. It's also my first AU. It revolves around the following pairings: YB/YM and M/R. I have a problem with OOCness, but I'll do my best to keep everyone in character. Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer- **Yugioh is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, not me. The plot of this story, however, is my own.

**Warning-** cursing, sex, yaoi, violence, stuff like that

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Prologue**

Absently chewing on a French fry, Touzouko Bakura glanced yet again at his watch. What was taking him so long? They were only given an hour for lunch between classes, and Malik was nowhere to be seen. It was the last day of school, and they'd agreed to celebrate the end of their junior year by going over to the nearest burger joint for lunch. At least that's what Bakura had thought.

Grumbling in annoyance the teen ran a hand through his pale hair. Why him? Malik had been his best friend since grade school, yet until just a few months ago, the teen hadn't thought of him as a romantic possibility at all. Sure Malik was hot, but he'd always just sort of been there. Things had changed though when he had accompanied Bakura and his brother, Ryou, to a secluded hot springs resort just outside of Kyoto for Winter Break. Bakura could still remember those December evenings spent sitting in a pool of steaming water, listening to Domino High's most love blonde whisper his deepest secrets into the frosty air. The white-haired teen had decided then and there that he wanted him, had known at that moment that he would do anything to gain the love of Malik Ishtar. Bakura wasn't exactly known for being able to express his less violent emotions, but he knew that somehow he'd find a way to confess how he really felt.

There was just one problem. Ryou was also smitten with the sexy Egyptian. Ryou Bakura was the spitting image of his older brother. Though he was a year younger and slightly smaller than Touzouko, the boy had the same white hair and mocha-tinted eyes. In reality, their greatest differences lay not in physical appearances but in personality. While Ryou was polite, warm-hearted, and kind, Bakura was wild and at the constant mercy of his most absurd tendencies. While Ryou's wardrobe consisted mostly of nicely kept jeans and polos, Bakura wore nothing but tee-shirts and worn out leather. Even the way they treated their hair was different. Ryou was known for keeping his tresses well-conditioned and neat. Bakura's hair on the other hand was lucky if it saw the bristles of a comb once in the course of a month. The differences didn't end there. The elder of the two could think of a million things that separated him from his brother. Among these was the fact that Ryou was very in touch with peoples' emotions, a distinct advantage when tried to win over someone's heart.

"Hey Kura!"

Bakura's head snapped up at the sound of his crush's voice. "Finally! What the hell took so lo…" The teen's voice died on his lips when he saw who Malik was with. "Ryou," he all but growled. "What are you doing here?"

A gentle smile gracing his lips, the boy looked up at his sibling. "Oh, well Malik invited me." His grin lessened somewhat at the annoyance in Bakura's eyes. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course he doesn't!" Malik ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "He's your brother for Ra's sake!"

Forcing himself to calm down, Bakura took a rather large bite of his hamburger. "You guys should grab something to eat. Class starts again in half an hour."

Laughing to himself, Malik stole some of the boy's fries. "Since when do you care about even going to class, Kura?"

"Since I realized I only have three more hours to make the lives of our sensei a living hell."

All three teens laughed at this, though to his credit Ryou did his best to look reproving for all of about fifteen seconds. Ordering a banana split for Ryou and a veggie burger for himself, Malik plopped down across from Bakura. He was all smiles. "I sure can't wait for this summer. I'll have to get Ishi to take us boating again. Remember when you got stung by that jellyfish?"

The elder of the white-haired teens rolled his eyes. "As if I could forget. You remind me of that every day!"

"Hey, it was funny!" Malik grinned crazily while Ryou took a large bite of ice cream to conceal his laughter.

"He's right, Kura. The look on your face was priceless!"

Bakura 'hmphed'. "Fucking thing just startled me was all."

"Whatever you say, Baka-boy."

"Damn straight." Pretending not to notice Malik's play on words, the teen began flicking the remains of his French fries into his brother's ice cream. Ryou crinkled his nose in disgust, trying to pick the potato bits out of his whipped cream as discreetly as possible. With his brother currently occupied, Bakura turned his attention to the tannest of the group. "So, you up for a bit of partying tonight? You know, as a celebration for making it through another year in hell."

Malik grinned but shook his head. Wish I could. Ishizu wants me to go with her and Rishid to some museum banquet." The boy pulled a face.

"Really? What's going on at the museum?" Not surprisingly, Ryou looked interested.

"A new exhibit on European History." The Egyptian ruffled his soft spoken friend's hair. "Hey! Why don't you tag along? Then we can be bored together!"

Ryou's eyes grew very wide. "Y-you mean that? Malik, I'd love to go!"

Bakura was about to say something but caught himself. _'Must…not…look…like a dick…in front of…Malik!'_ He felt more than a little put out. After all, Ishtar had never invited _him_ to any banquet before.

"Well then Ryou, it's a date. I'll pick you up at around 7:30, okay?"

The younger teen beamed. "That sounds lovely, Malik. I'll have to…OH MY GOD! CLASS STARTS IN THREE MINUTES!" Not bothering to finish his sentence, the youngest of the Bakuras leapt off his seat and sprinted from the restaurant.

Bakura in turn, no longer really caring if he made it back to school, sat there and glared at the back of the retreating boy's head. _'Damn Ryou. Damn Malik Ishta_r.'

Not noticing the dark look on his best friend's face, the blonde merely chuckled. "That brother of yours is something else! Hey, you don't think he's tagging along just to be nice, do you?"

Bakura clenched his fists. "Doubtful."

"You sure?" Malik breathed a sigh of relief. "I was afraid I was being too forward."

"Too forward? Ishtar, why would you care?"

At this, the Egyptian actually blushed. "I don't know. I guess… I guess I've just been feeling differently about Ryou this year. I never realized what a great person he was."

By now the force of Bakura's nails digging into his flesh had caused his palms to bleed. Could it be? Could the one person he wanted to be with really have fallen for his younger brother? No! It wasn't possible. He wouldn't believe it until…

"Kura, do you think he likes me?"

"I…" The teen forced himself to stop and think about his words. Malik may have unknowingly crushed his heart, but he was still a friend. That and there was always a chance that Bakura could eventually win him over. Either way, he had to think before he spoke. "I…don't know," he said through gritted teeth. "Why don't you ask him?"

---

Across town and several hours later, a boy who looked remarkably like Malik Ishtar strolled into Club Khonsu. The phases of the moon, depicted in fluorescent neon lights, shone down upon his face and lithe body, causing the blonde's amethyst eyes to glow blue. The few people still sober enough to stay awake looked up as he passed. It was hard not to stare. Mariku Ishtar was as beautiful as he was dangerous.

"Hey Mai!" The Egyptian sat down and called out to one of the bartenders. His voice was deep, smooth, haunting. It was a voice entirely to dark for a teen of seventeen years. "Three shots of Jack Daniel's and a pitcher of the cheapest shit you've got on tap."

Mai Kujaki, a busty woman with raspberry-painted nails and blonde hair, arched one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows. "You having troubles at home again?"

Marik didn't reply but downed the first JD as soon as it hit the counter. Mai didn't press any further, and he realized that this was why he liked it here. They didn't care who you were, where you came from, or what your age was as long as you paid your bill and left an occasional tip somewhere between the peanut shells and plastic ashtrays. Yep. Club Khonsu was a seedy place full of seedy people, and in a way this was comforting. Here you didn't have to be anybody. Here you could forget, and forgetting was one of Mariku's favorite pastimes.

"So…" He wasn't obliged to make conversation, but today the Egyptian was lonely. "You still seeing that Jou guy?"

Mai's lips broke into her first genuine smile of the day. "Yeah, he's a sweet kid, good heart."

"A little young though, isn't he?"

"Heh! You, little boy, should _not_ be talking!" The woman tapped his glass playfully. To anyone else, Mariku's words would have been taken as an insult, but she had known him long enough to understand that he didn't really mean to be rude. Life had simply made Marik into a hard person, and it showed.

A commotion from the front of the bar caused both blondes to look up. A group of seven male college students and entered the club. It was obvious they were new to Domino. All veteran club goers knew the Khonsu wasn't a place for good times or friendly laughter. It was a sad place, neither fit for the carefree nor the jubilant. Mariku analyzed the men's drunken faces carefully from the corner of his eye. Not all of them were bad looking. A few, in fact, were quite attractive. A smirk now gracing his lips, the wild-haired blonde downed his final shot of whiskey. It seemed drinking himself into a stupor of lethargic self pity would have to wait until another night.

"Hey sandbags!" One of the men, a muscular redhead with bad teeth, signaled to Mai. "You gonna take our orders or what?"

Rolling her eyes, the woman ambled over more slowly than usual. "Don't call me that again, or you'll be missing some anatomy of your own. Now what do you want?"

"Sheesh, sorry!"

Mai watched Mariku closely as she mixed the drinks. He was leaning farther over the counter than necessary, back arched. Not only did this cause his already thin waist to appear slimmer, but it made the Egyptian's ass appear that much more prominent. He ran his tongue seductively over the condensation of his mug as he did this, making the teen's intentions rather clear. Most of the men had noticed by now, and, though a few looked rather disgusted, the majority appeared to be enjoying the show.

"Hey!" The redhead, who seemed to be the leader of the group, motioned to Mariku. "What's someone like you doing drinkin' all on his own?"

"No real reason. Just sick of the same old crowd I guess."

"Well then, allow us to spice up your life!" A brunette, whose biceps were only slightly less bulging than his superior's, patted the seat next to him. "Come on! We'll buy you a drink."

"Well I've never been one to pass up free alcohol." Seductive grin still plastered on his face, Marik moved to sit with them. Mai frowned. At first the Egyptian's habits and sexual preferences had shocked her, but after a while the woman had come to realize that sex was his escape. It was the one constant in an otherwise unstable life.

"Ishtar working his magic once again?"

Mai turned to her friend and fellow bartender, Otogi. "What do you think? Why else would he be talking to a bunch of wasted idiots?" By now Marik had managed to strike up a conversation with one of them. It might have even looked innocent if his hand hadn't been resting so close to the junction of the man's thighs.

Otogi nodded. "Has a lot of trouble with his family, does he?"

"Yeah. He got really drunk this one time. Started going on about how he hasn't seen his brother and sister since his dad died. Then he got into this whole thing about his mother. Did you know that he's been their main source of income since he was fifteen?"

"Shit, what is she? Junkie? Alcoholic?"

"He never said. You know Ishtar. Personal life's the one thing he _is_ reserved about."

"Hey Mai!" Both bartenders glanced towards Mariku. "I'm out of here. Money's on the table." And he was gone, out the door and into the streets, with no more cash in his pocket and surrounded by a group of people he'd only just met. But then anyone who knew the teen knew that this was how he lived, day to day, paycheck to paycheck, not giving a fuck about life or where his was heading.

As she gathered up the wad of bills Marik had left her, the woman shook her head. "That kid treats his life like he rides that damn motorcycle, fast and hard and as if he won't ever have to stop."

"What happens if he falls off?"

Mai offered a sad little smile. "Not if. When."

---

-TOT


	2. Slow Dance

**WARNING: This chapter contains a lemon. If this offends you, please don't read it.**

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 1- Slow Dance**

****

---

"Then after that we went back outside, and he asked me out right under the stars, and I said yes, and…Kura are you listening?"

Gritting his teeth, Bakura gave a curt nod. Ryou had been going on like this for hours, and not only was it making him heartsick, it was getting old. The teen's worst fears had been confirmed when his younger brother had come home around midnight, smiling like a love struck, preteen girl. Knowing their father would lose his mind if he found out, Ryou had immediately dragged Bakura up to his room and commenced with recounting every minute detail of the evening. And it hadn't stopped there. The next morning, after the eldest Bakura had left for work, the elated boy had only stopped talking about it long enough to breath.

"Kura, do you think this will work out? I mean, we're so different!"

With an exasperated sigh, the older boy rolled his eyes. "How the hell should I know? He's _your_ boyfriend."

"Yeah, that's true…" Ryou trailed off, his eyes becoming rather dreamy.

Knowing that if he had to spend one more instant with his baby brother his sanity would snap, Bakura got up to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Oh, okay…I…" For a moment Ryou looked rather upset. "Y-you're okay with Malik and I, aren't you?"

Relieved that he hadn't spoken to the kid of his crush on the Egyptian, Bakura forced his lips into a smile that was just a bit too wide to be genuine. "To tell you the truth I don't really care. Just so long as you're happy I guess."

"Oh Touzouko! Thank you!"

Bakura fought for air as he was pulled into a rib-shattering hug. He'd forgotten how strong Ryou could be when he got excited. "No…problem," he gasped, trying to unwind the boy from his waist. "Alright…I'm going…see you…" Finally managing to tear himself from Ryou's grasp, the teen stumbled out into the street. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get out, forget everything that had gone wrong in the past few days.

But thoughts of Malik Ishtar would not leave him be. It was strange too because, instead of dwelling on the other day, Bakura found himself remembering a conversation they had had during their stay at the hot springs. It had been about family.

_-Flashback-_

"_You mean you blew up two microwaves, and she still didn't make you pay for them? Shit Ishtar! My dad would probably dismember me!"_

_Said blonde laughed quietly. "I dunno. It was right after my mom left, so Ishi probably thought I was still freaked out about the whole thing."_

"_Were you?" Bakura frowned. He had never heard Malik speak of anyone in his family besides Ishizu and his cousin, Rishid._

"_Maybe…okay yeah, I was." The Egyptian leaned back, allowing his tanned body to slip further beneath the water. "It's just that…after my dad died…she abandoned us. Not a month after his death, and all of a sudden she announced that she had a boyfriend and was moving out. Said we could come along…if we wanted to."_

"_Why didn't you?"_

"_Are you kidding? Ishizu was so pissed there was no way in hell she would have gone with that bi…with my mom. The next day she went down to the courthouse and filed for custody of Mariku and me, though half those papers weren't really necessary."_

_Bakura was surprised and a bit taken aback by his friend's bitter words. "Who's Mariku?"_

"_My brother." Malik chewed his lip and glared darkly at his water-pruned fingertips. "Decided to move with our mother instead of staying here. That asshole! He only left us because our mom wouldn't care if he drank or slacked off!"_

_How strange. All these years and Bakura had never known his best friend had a brother. No wonder though. If Malik felt the same about this Mariku character as he did his own mother…_

"_Hey, how are things going with your dad? Did you tell him yet?"_

"_What? Oh…about me being gay. Yeah, um…he didn't take it too well actually." Despite himself, the pale teen blushed. He didn't like thinking about that evening. He hadn't really told his father so much as the man had walked in on him making out with another guy from school. After literally kicking the boy out of the house, Mr. Bakura had turned on his son. "What is WRONG with you?" he'd said. "You're not gay!"_

"_And what if I am?"_

_The man's cheeks had gone a sort of blotchy red. "No son of mine is going to be known as a fucking faggot, Touzouko!"_

_That had hurt, hurt a million times worse than the slap that came after. Bakura could still remember the chill that had come over him when his father said that. He had looked into his eyes and realized at that moment that his own flesh and blood considered him lower than dirt, something to be squashed._

"_Oh well, he'll have to come around eventually." Malik gave his friend a reassuring smile. "After all, you and your brother are all he's got."_

_Bakura smirked sardonically. "Wonder what he'd do if he figured out Ryou was queer too. Probably wouldn't believe it. Ry's too perfect to like guys."_

"_You know you shouldn't rip on your brother like that. He really does care for you."_

"_I know." Bakura grunted. "He's just so sensitive sometimes. Drives me fucking crazy!"_

"_Yeah, but he's a good kid…a good brother. You're lucky, Touzouko."_

_---_

Bakura was jolted from his musings as an electric blue light flared up in his line of vision. Glancing up, he was surprised to find himself in front of some kind of bar. _'Club Khonsu…' _The sign above the inconspicuous, steel door was decorated by moons. Sickle, quarter, half, and full. All were there, shining brightly in the unremarkable darkness surrounding them. Looking up towards the night sky, Bakura thought of going back. He had been wandering for hours, and Ryou was no doubt worried, but something about this place intrigued him. The teen had to enter.

Quickly brushing past the dingy tables at the front of the club, the white-haired boy made his way to the bar at the other end. Soft music trickled from some speakers in the corner, and a faint light shone down, illuminating what looked like a small dance floor separating the tables from the bar.

"Can I help you?" Sitting down on one of the barstools, Bakura was catered to by a woman with blonde hair.

"Yeah. You guys do party drinks?"

"We do lots of things."

"Well then give me a margarita." Bakura smirked at his own silliness. He liked alcohol, but only when it was mixed with something sweet. When the bartender brought out the drink he dug in, taking a long sip that left him with a slight brain freeze. After nursing his head for a moment, Bakura went to take another gulp but stopped just inches from his mouth as something caught his eye.

Someone new had entered the bar. His sandy-colored hair was long and disheveled, spiking out at odd angles. It twisted in all directions, hiding his face as he half walked, half limped through the dimly lit club. At first Bakura had thought this person was Malik. The stranger's skin did appear darker than most, but he quickly discarded this thought. Malik Ishtar wasn't that tall, and he certainly wouldn't be caught stumbling around a random bar. Still, this boy was interesting.

With an exhausted sigh, the wild-haired blonde collapsed onto a seat two chairs to Bakura's right. He sat groggily for a moment then pitched forward, resting his head awkwardly on the counter.

"What the fuck are you staring at?"

The white-haired teen jumped slightly as one of this mystery boy's eyes peered out at him from behind a veil of unruly bangs. He hadn't realized he was being that obvious. "Nothing, I..."

Straightening up, the stranger raised a hand to cut him off. "I'm not drunk and I'm not…oh whatever. Who the fuck cares?" Turning away from Bakura once more, he called out to one of the bartenders. "Hey Otogi!"

A raven-haired man with green eyes approached. "You sure you want something? You look pretty smashed."

"Heh…well I was going to see if you had any aspirin on hand, but just for that I think I'll have a Jack and Coke." Smiling impishly, the man turned back to Bakura. "So what brings someone like you to a place like this?"

"Someone like me?"

The blonde just shrugged. "You're just not the type usually seen in here. You don't look poor or drunk."

"Oh." Despite himself, Bakura laughed. "Yeah, I guess I just had to get out for a while. You know what I mean…life's too much."

The tanner of the two nodded. "I get that." He straightened up, and Bakura finally got a good look at him. The blonde's features were sharp, sharp yet at the same time strangely delicate. He looked quick and dangerous, and the white-haired boy had no doubt in his mind that he knew how to fight, yet, as intimidating as he seemed, Bakura could sense a weakness about this boy. Beneath those torn khakis and that short-sleeved shirt with the logo of the convenience store he worked in on the pocket, there lurked a sort of quiet desperation, a longing for anything besides this ragged mess that he called a life.

"So…" He wasn't really sure what to say. "Do you…"

"Let's dance." Cutting him off for the second time that night, the blonde stumbled to his feet and dragged Bakura towards the dance floor. Eyes shivering feverishly, he wrapped his arms around the paler teen's neck.

Without thinking, the paler boy's own hands went to the small of his back. Closing his eyes, Bakura allowed the faint music to wash over him. That was one thing he loved, music. He excelled at picking out the rhythms and harmonies and making them his own. Yes, music was one of the few things he felt passionate about, and the fact that he had a rather handsome young man pulled tight against his chest was just an added bonus. "This is wild," he murmured. "Fucking crazy." But he didn't pull away. Who cared if they'd only just met? His father wasn't here to catch him this time, and having this boy's warm skin beneath his fingertips just felt right.

From behind the bar, Mai watched them dance. They weren't exactly graceful. In his exhaustion, Marik kept tripping over his own feet, but something about this picture was touching. Of all the people Ishtar had seduced at Club Khonsu, this white-haired guy was definitely one of the better ones. He may not have been the saintliest person she'd ever seen, but, compared to the thick-headed drunks the Egyptian usually picked up, he was close enough.

Back on the dance floor, Mariku moaned softly as the mystery boy's hands slipped beneath the hemline of his pants. The other teen heard this and chuckled, giving his ass a light squeeze.

"You like that?"

Marik nodded. "Yeah…feels great." He pressed his body closer to his dance partner, allowing a playful grin to spread across his face. "You know what feels better…" The sentence hung like an unfulfilled promise in the air.

"Tell me," the other breathed. "Tell me what feels better."

Not bothering to reply, Mariku grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bathroom. The club was next to empty, and the cramped little room would suit just fine. The second the door had closed behind them, he was up against the wall, a foreign tongue being shoved half way down his throat. The blonde brought his hands to the other's hair, raking his fingers madly through the strands of silky white. He fought back for a moment, sparring with the paler teen until he grew weary and allowed himself to be thoroughly kissed. It was incredible, electric. Mariku couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so alive. He fumbled madly with his partner's zipper, anxious to get to the head of the matter.

Bakura, in turn, was at a level that was absolutely euphoric. What he was doing fucking some perfect stranger, the teen couldn't say, but when he touched this boy all the pain and emptiness of losing Malik left him. In its place there stood a wild, unhinged, fantastic sense of joy, a joy that only burned brighter as their bodies danced in frenzied passion. So intense was his state of bliss that when the blonde's calloused hand finally grabbed his erection, Bakura lost all control. Grabbing him by the arms, he forced the other boy to bend over the sink counter. The white-haired teen then managed to undo the Egyptian's fly, pulling his pants down to his knees.

"You want this?" Not waiting for a reply, he shoved a finger in the boy's entrance. This was met by an almost silent hiss. Hearing this, Bakura forced himself to stop. "You okay?"

"Yes." Marik mentally cursed himself. He shouldn't have let things get so rough the other night. Sure, the sex had been great, but now his body was paying the price. "I'm fine. Just do it."

Frowning slightly, Bakura pushed another finger past the ring of muscle. He moved the digits in and out, sighing with relief as the blonde beneath him began to relax. Now all he needed was something to make it easier.

"Cargo pocket, left leg."

"Damn." A feral smile plastered on his lips, the white-haired teen fished about in his partner's pocket. His grin reached a new level of lustfulness as he extracted a small container of Vaseline. "Wish I was always this prepared."

"Comes with repetition." Closing his eyes, Marik waited to be filled, for the completion he sought every time he spread his legs. No matter how great the sex, he was always disappointed. Most people thought he did this solely because of hormones, but these people were idiots. They didn't know him, the real Mariku Ishtar. They didn't realize that every time he had sex, the boy was simply searching for the one thing that could fill him completely. Each time he failed to do so, the teen's only way of maintaining hope was a single thought. _'Next time…next time will be perfect…'_

"Oh god…" The Egyptian convulsed as the other's arousal forced its way into his body. He could feel his already tender muscles expanding, striving to encompass what had been brutally thrust past them. It hurt, but there was a sense of surety about this pain, a sort of familiar sweetness. In a way Marik liked it. It kept him anchored to one of the few moments in his life he actually wished to remember.

Bakura's eyes went out of focus at the white heat suddenly surrounding him. He had never felt something so intense, so incredibly stimulating. "Shit…you're tight!" Taking a shaky breath, he pulled out, only to bury himself to the hilt moments later. He continued, setting a faster and faster pace as they reached their climax. Bakura grinned dizzily. He could hear the blonde beneath him, writhing, moaning, twisting his body into unimaginable positions as sensations threatened to force him over the edge. Of all the people he had been with, the paler boy could not recall a single one who was quite this enthralling.

"I-I can't…" With a muffled cry, Mariku released, drowning in angry white light and the scent of his own essence. He shuddered silently. "…so good…fuck…" The silver-haired teen came soon after, and Marik couldn't help but smile as the sudden warmth of the other's seed engulfed him.

"That was…wow…" Reluctantly, Bakura pulled himself from the blonde's body. "You're amazing." He spun the boy around by the shoulders and planted him with a wet kiss. The sweat soaked perfection of the Egyptian's skin shivered happily beneath his fingertips, and that mass of dusty gold hair now stuck out at even more awkward angles. It gave his sharp face a softer, more childlike appearance.

"What's you're name?"

The question shocked Bakura from his reverie. "Oh…its Bakura…Touzouko Bakura."

"Hmm, Touzouko Bakura." Mariku nodded nonchalantly, but a secret smile bloomed within his heart. Until now he had never asked the names of his one night lovers. Sometimes names were given. Sometimes they weren't, but until now he hadn't cared enough to ask. This boy was different though. He couldn't place his finger on it, but Ishtar knew. His acquaintance with Touzouko Bakura was far from over.

"And what about you?" The cream-skinned boy cocked his head. "You've got a name too, don't you?"

Mariku wrinkled his nose and grinned darkly. "Yeah, I do. It's Mariku…Mariku Ishta…" The blonde's voice died off abruptly as Bakura's grew very wide.

"You're fucking…no…shit, NO!" Scrambling to his feet, Touzouko began to back away. There was no way this was…sure they looked similar but… Jerking his pants back on, the teen turned and ran. What else could he do? He'd just fucked Malik's brother, Malik's _hated_ brother. How could he have betrayed him like that? How could he have really found something special in a person so selfish and uncaring and…his voice, dark and beautiful like shadowed silk, sad and crazy and alluring and terrifying, more things than he cared to comprehend. _'Damn it!'_ Not bothering to pay for his drink, Bakura dashed into the street. He ignored the flickering moons above him. They were obsolete. He would never enter Club Khonsu again, and he most certainly would not meet with a man named Mariku Ishtar. As far as he was concerned, it never happened. History was up for interpretation anyway.

---

Marik stared dumbly at the space his white-haired lover had occupied moments earlier. _'After all that…he just left?' _Using his trembling arms to push himself off the floor, the Egyptian managed to gain his feet. Almost shamefully, he pulled on his own sweaty cargos. He ignored the stickiness of blood and semen between his thighs as he did this. The sensation wasn't new. It was like every other night, with every other person running away as soon as the sex was over. There had been nothing special about Bakura. Marik was stupid to think there would be, stupid to ask his name. Still, for a moment the Egyptian had thought he'd had something. He'd seen that completion he sought flickering deep within the chestnut facets of Bakura's eyes. It was real. He hadn't imagined it. It was… "Shut up." Mariku glared at his reflection in the mirror. "You're fine on your own. Just shut up."

He thrust some money in Otogi's face on the way out but didn't bother counting it. He knew he would kick himself for doing this later when they had no money for groceries, but at the moment, Mariku was too pissed to care. He took a sharp right and headed down the street. With each block, the buildings became more decrepit. He could hear the clacking of whores' stilettos on the pavement and see the watery, brothel lights flickering in the distance. Yes, this neighborhood was the sickness of Domino City, a bacteria that only spread as children like him were thrust brutally into its world of sin.

As he neared the rundown apartment complex he called home, Marik stopped. His mother's boyfriend had decided to pay a visit. Cursing under his breath, the blonde glared at the man's suped up Escalade sitting sat like a hideous, black beetle in the tenant parking lot. The car clashed horribly with the impoverished dinginess of the surrounding buildings. It was sick to think that one payment on that thing could provide most people in this neighborhood with enough food to last the month.

A breeze whirled up, and Mariku flinched as its tendrils danced across his still slick flesh. Like it or not, he'd have to go inside. The teen had to be at work in four hours, and it was imperative he get some sleep. Hopefully he'd be able to block out the sounds that bastard was able to coax from his mother's throat. Mounting the metal staircase that led to his floor, Marik allowed himself to glance one last time in the direction of Club Khonsu.

'_Hmm, Touzouko Bakura…fuck that.'_ Marik liked being alone. He didn't need anyone.

---

-TOT (In case you haven't noticed, I'm obsessed with Yami Marik angst. Oh well. There's a fanatic for every character I suppose. Anyway, this chapter is a bit confusing. Though I maintained third person throughout, I took the liberty of slanting the viewpoint from Marik to Bakura rather frequently. I did so to delve deeper into their emotions as well as emphasize the fact that they've never met. I really hope I didn't loose any of you in the attempt. Oh, and thank you for the lovely reviews! Its nice to know that people like my work.)


	3. Bang

**Warning- This chapter contains a lot of gay slurs that many may find offensive. I in no way have any hateful feelings or prejudices towards homosexuals (I would hope that would be kind of obvious). The insulting references made are intended only to help develop the story's plotline.**

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 2-Bang**

---

"It's three o'clock in the morning! WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?"

Glad that he hadn't had enough alcohol to become intoxicated, Bakura glared daggers at his father. "I went for a walk! If you don't believe me ask Ryou!"

"A walk?" The man looked absolutely livid. "A walk! Don't you bullshit me, Touzouko! I know exactly what you were doing!"

"Okay, fine! What was I doing?"

Face going a nasty shade of purple, Mr. Bakura poked an accusing finger at his eldest son. "You were messing around with that queer from school, and don't you fucking deny it!"

"That queer from school, hmm." The teen's voice became low and dangerous, unknowingly mimicking that of Marik Ishtar. "Well that's interesting, _Father_, because he moved out of Domino months ago!"

The man didn't miss a beat. "Fine. Then it was some other boy! I guess that means you're a faggot and a slut!"

"BASTARD!" A nasty snapping sound echoed off the walls as Bakura belted his father across the face. He didn't know what came over him, but hearing someone say that after what had just happened drove him over the edge. With an angry, almost psychotic, cry he lunged at the man, nailing several more punches before finally being floored by a single blow to the gut. Chest heaving from lack of oxygen, Bakura grinned viciously at his own winded father. "You can't control who I am! You never could, so get it through your fucking head!" Dragging himself off the ground, the white-haired boy spat at his father's feet before storming upstairs. He walked into his room and slammed the door, locking it behind him. The teen flinched despite himself at the sound of the man's heavy footsteps coming up after him.

"Damn it, Touzouko! Open this door!" Bakura ignored the heavy pounding against the structure's frame. Instead he sprawled out on his bed, too tired and emotionally drained to do anything but sleep.

---

"Marik, there you are! I was just about to call."

"Morning, Ms. Izuna." Mariku almost smiled. This was the second time the old woman had forgotten he no longer had telephone service. "Sorry I'm late, couldn't sleep."

"Oh that's quite all right. We haven't had many customers this morning anyway." Ms. Izuna was his boss. A short, elderly woman with bad eyesight and a very sweet voice, she wasn't exactly the type of person you'd expect to be running a convenience store. It was especially odd in this neighborhood, where gangs and would-be robbers were a constant threat. Still, there was something about her that made even the toughest of people drop their façade. She didn't judge people. She accepted everyone for who they were and treated them kindly regardless. No matter how many times Mariku came in late or snapped at a customer, Ms. Izuna was always willing to give him a second chance.

The opposite could be said of his other employer, Mr. Akuma. The overweight, ex-biker owned Hell Rider's Repair Shop, an auto place just a couple streets over. Akuma hated Marik deeply, keeping him around only because he knew bikes like the back of his hand. Still, the blonde was secretly terrified that he'd be fired. He worked at Ms. Izuna's Monday through Thursday, taking Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at the Shop because they were the only days Mr. Akuma would allow him. If he lost that job, Mariku wasn't sure how he'd get by.

"Mariku, my granddaughter has a nasty cold. Can you handle the store while I go out for a bit and see her?"

The Egyptian nodded and vaulted over the counter. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Her face contorting into a crinkly smile, Ms. Izuna took her leave. She had always like Mariku. He wasn't the nicest boy, but he had a sharp wit and cared deeply for his mother. "I'm sure you will be. Well goodbye, dear. See you in an hour."

Marik nodded again and took his place behind the register. He sighed. Yet another day of stocking shelves and intimidating the fight out of shoplifters. Rubbing a nasty bruise on his left shoulder, the blonde couldn't help thinking of last night. He snarled at the memory of Bakura leaving but shivered delightedly at the same time. No matter how angry he was, no matter how badly he wanted to kick that bitch's ass, Mariku could not forget the sensation of having that boy inside him. He had been so sure. It had felt so right. Damn it! Why couldn't he seem to shake those stupid memories? With a frustrated growl, the blonde slammed his fist into the unforgiving counter.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

Glancing up from his bleeding knuckles, Marik made a face. "Hello, Yami. What brings you here?"

"Condoms." Slight smile playing on his lips, the short, ruby-eyed boy made his way to the counter.

"Bullshit." The Egyptian rolled his eyes. "You know as well as I do that Ms. Izuna doesn't carry those. What's the real reason you showed up?"

"Caught me." Flipping his multi-colored tresses, the teen decided to get right down to business. "From what I hear, you got it on with a rather interesting boy last night."

Marik stiffened. "Who the fuck told you that?"

"Shizuka Jounouchi. You know, Katsuya's sister."

"And how did she find out?"

Yami laughed despite himself. "Seems Otogi has a bit of a crush on her. Must have thought it would make quite the story."

Growling to himself, the blonde made a mental note to kick the bartender's ass later. Wait, why did it matter? He had never cared about people finding out about his sexual adventures before…but this was different. This was Bakura, not some stupid… No. This _wasn't_ Bakura. This was just another boy, a good looking boy perhaps, but still just another boy.

"…anyway, I never expected you to land someone like Touzouko."

"Huh?" Mariku shook his head and blinked. "Were you still talking?" He grinned, knowing full well that Yami wasn't keen on being ignored.

The shorter teen's eye twitched. "Yes, actually. I was. Anyway Marik, what I was _trying _to tell you is that you might have something with this Bakura guy. He's a hell of a lot better than any of those losers you picked up at Club Khonsu before."

"Whatever. There was nothing special about him."

Yami actually frowned. Mariku may have been an ass, but he still considered him something of a friend. "What makes you say that?"

"He…" The blonde bit his lip and snorted. "Nevermind. Now if you aren't going to buy something I suggest you leave."

"But I…fine. If you're going to be an ass about it then I'll do just that." Spinning Yami strode haughtily from the counter. However, upon reaching the door, he lingered for a moment and sighed. "I don't care how tough you are, Mariku. No one deserves to spend their life alone."

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"Still, you don't deserve it."

---

"Yo Bakura!"

The white-haired teen flinched as Katsuya Jounouchi's voice grated on his eardrums. After the fight with his dad, he had slept until noon, waking up with bloodshot eyes and a killer hangover. He had decided to take yet another walk to clear his mind.

"Bakura…Bakura? HEY BAKURA!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

The brown-eyed blonde jumped back in surprise. "Jeez Kura! What crawled up your ass this morning?"

"Nothing." The boy groaned and massaged his temples. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a public park, ain't it?"

"Yes but…" Bakura rolled his eyes. There was no use trying to argue with Katsuya Jounouchi. Eventually he would tell you what he'd came to say, whether his words were wanted or not. The teen gave up and collapsed on one a nearby bench, ready to take whatever nonsense the blonde had a mind to spew.

"So…I hear that you had an interesting experience last night." Jou smirked at the other teen's mortified expression. "Ahh…so now that I have your attention, let me ask you one thing. What the hell are you doin' with someone like Marik Ishtar? Have you lost your goddamned mind?"

Bakura leapt to his feet. "How did you find out about that?"

"Does it matter?" A guarded look passed over Jou's face. "I got my sources same as you. Anyway I thought you should know. Ishtar ain't the kind of guy you want to fuck with."

"Do you mean that in the figurative or literal sense?"

The blonde's eyes grew very wide. "So it's true! You actually had sex with Marik Ishtar! Was he as good as they say? Were you on top or bo…"

"Katsuya, you do know that if you finish what you're about to say I will be forced to beat you to within an inch of your worthless life, right?"

"Uh…" For the first time Jounouchi noticed the dangerous gleam in Bakura's eye. "…yeah…I'll make a note of that…but seriously, Kura, was he…"

"Katsuya…" Grabbing him by the collar, Bakura forced the boy up against a nearby tree. His voice came out a hot and angry hiss. "No more questions. Is that clear?"

"…crystal…"

With a snort, the white-haired teen dropped his blond counterpart and began to walk away. Jou shook his head at his retreating form. _'That idiot…takes things too seriously for his own good.'_ Then again, that was just Bakura. He may have been intense, grumpy, and sometimes rather frightening, but when you got right down to it he wasn't really a bad person. There was a sort of ferocious loyalty about him that Katsuya found rather striking. Bakura let few become close to him, but those who did manage to make it into his heart never left. His devotion to those he loved was truly amazing, and the teen couldn't help but wonder why.

---

Touzouko walked into an empty house, secretly very glad that his father and Ryou weren't there to scream at or bother him. He needed to lie down. That chance meeting with Jounouchi had frayed what remained of his already stretched nerves, and the teen didn't know how much more of this he could take. Sleep. That's what he needed. He needed to fall back into the comforting embrace of his pillow and dream not of Mariku Ishtar, but of something warm and pleasant.

'_But Marik _was_ warm and pleasant….'_

"Shove it." Cursing the perverted voice in the back of his mind, Bakura rolled over on his bed and fell into an uneasy slumber.

_-Dream-_

"_Amane! Hurry up!" A nine year old Touzouko slowed, allowing his baby sister to catch up to him. _

"_I'm coming!" Stubby, white pigtails flying in the wind, a girl of perhaps six years trotted down the little walkway leading to the Bakura residence. "You run too fast!" Still, she stumbled on, stopping only when she reached the porch. _

"_Nu-uh! Ryou can keep up!" _

"_Well I'm not Ryou!" Sticking her tongue out at her big brother, Amane ran inside. "Mommy! Mommy! We're back from school now!" She threw off her shoes and raincoat and ran through the house looking for their mother._

"_Yes, I see that." A brown-haired woman came into view. She had soft skin and a beautiful smile. Getting to her knees, she pulled Amane into a tight embrace. "How was your day sweetheart?"_

"_It was great! We went on a field trip to the zoo, and I saw a zebra, and I…"_

"_Hold up, baby. One thing at a time." Mrs. Bakura smoothed her daughter's hair affectionately then looked up. "Where's your brother?"_

"_Right here!" The young Touzouko appeared in the doorway. He ran to his mother's arms, always happy to see her._

"_Hey…" A shy voice came from the stairs, and all three turned to look. Ryou wasn't feeling well. He'd had a cough for some time now and had missed a good deal of school. Still, the eight year-old was as sweet as ever. "I wanna hug too, Momma."_

_Touzouko watched as the two came towards eachother, but just as the ailing little boy had reached his mother's arms, the scene began to change. The house melted away, and the dreamer found himself in a cramped room, devoid of all light but for that coming from the crack beneath the door. He cowered in the corner, trying not to make a sound. As much as he feared this four-walled prison, what was going on outside was doubly terrifying. Touzouko could hear the burglars' voices, his mother's desperate screams. It was all a horrible blur of which he could recall only snippets._

"_Take your sister! Hide in the closet!" That's what his mother had told him when they came, and he'd tried so hard to comply. But he wasn't brave enough. When the windows began to shatter, Touzouko ran as fast as he could. He ran so fast in fact that by the time he got to his mother's walk- in closet, it was already too late. Amane had fallen behind. She couldn't run fast enough._

"_Touzouko?" Her voice. Her poor, sweet, darling voice. To think her own brother had failed her. "TOUZOUKO! HELP ME! BIG BROTHER, HEL..."_

_Bang._

_Amane's voice came abruptly to a halt._

_Bang._

_His mother let out an anguished moan._

_Bang._

_The shadows flitting in the light beneath the door grew very still._

_---_

Upon entering his house, Ryou was greeted by the sound of his brother's screams. Taking the stairs two at a time, he dashed to Bakura's aid. "Kura? Kura, what's wrong? Shh…it's just a dream. Shh…" He stroked the teen's sweaty hair. He should have known that his elder sibling would have nightmares. Bakura always slept badly after fighting with their father.

"R-Ryou…" Slowly, said boy's eyes began to open. With a desperate cry he bolted upright, clutching violently at his little brother. "Ryou! I…I…"

"Calm down, Touzouko. I'm right here. It was…it was just a dream." Ryou frowned. To this day he didn't know the horrible extent of Bakura's sleep terrors. They had begun soon after their mother and sister's death, plaguing the boy almost nightly. As he grew older, these nightmares became less frequent, yet they were still terrifying enough to bring the tough and prickly Bakura to the point of tears.

"I know that!" Suddenly very angry, the older teen scrambled out of bed. He growled at his own childishness. Bakura hated looking weak, even in front of his brother. Screaming because of a nightmare was inexcusable.

"Hey! Don't chew me out for being concerned, alright?" Ryou stormed to the door. "You know, maybe if you weren't such an ass all the time you and Dad might actually get along!"

"Get along? What the FUCK are you talking about? HE DOESN'T CARE A FLYING SHIT ABOUT ME, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

The younger boy matched his older brother glare for glare. "He _does_ care! That's why he waited up half the night worrying about you!"

For a moment the room hung in an unsettling silence. Bakura was so angry his voice came in a seething hiss. "He didn't call me a faggot and a slut because he was worried, Ryou. We both know why he's so pissed, and it sure as _hell_ wasn't because I got home late!"

"I…" Ryou flinched at the other's biting words. What was he supposed to say? They both knew their father couldn't stand the fact that his eldest son was gay.

For the third time in the past forty-eight hours, Bakura got up and left. He had nothing left to say and nothing left to hear. He hadn't asked for this, and at that moment the teen could think of only one thing. Escape. He wanted to be free of his terrible nightmares, of his asshole for a father. He wanted to forget the name Mariku Ishtar and drown his guilt in the only way he knew how.

"Kura, wait! Where are you going?" Rushing to the door, the younger of the two tried to block the front door. Bakura smiled darkly and shoved him aside. His brother didn't get it. He hadn't caused his sister's death and his dad sure as hell didn't know he was gay.

"See you round, Ryou."

---

**-TOT** (This chapter was way shorter than the previous one. I just couldn't think of much else to write. Also, I hope you don't mind the warning I put at the beginning. I just thought some of the language I used was kind of harsh and didn't want it to be taken in the wrong way. Anyway, thanks for all the feedback. I'll update as soon as possible.)


	4. Emotions Run High

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 3-Emotions Run High**

* * *

Bakura was at one of the seedier music shops downtown, rooting through bin after bin of yellowing sheet music. He had decided to take up piano again, more as a stress reliever than anything else. The white-haired teen used to play quite often. Some would say that he was even quite good, but upon entering high school Bakura became distracted by other matters. However, now more than ever, he needed something to occupy his thoughts. It had been almost a week and a half since his chance meeting with Malik's brother, and he still couldn't seem to push images of that night from his mind. Running a finger over the dust-cover baby grand in the back of the store, he wondered if he still knew how to play.

* * *

"Shit Varon! This is awesome!" 

"Tell me about it, mate! Hey, why don't you take her for a spin, eh? What Boss don't know won't hurt 'im!"

Marik stared at the gold-painted Kawasaki ZRX with the look of a starved child. "I shouldn't. I mean, if I lose this job I'm fucking screwed."

"Yeah, but he ain't around." With a sly wink, the Aussi adjusted the riding goggles on his mass of unruly bangs. "Come on…123 horse power…rides smooth at 160 mph… Oh, and did I mention that she's freshly tuned?"

"Ugh…just shut up will you? I CAN'T RISK IT!" But even as he denied it, Mariku had already begun slinging his leg over the seat of the machine. Though he worked with motorcycles almost every day, it had been a long time since the boy had actually ridden one. He'd been forced to sell his old Honda several months ago, and thinking about it still hurt. Turning on the ignition, he glared at Varon. "I'll take her out for ten minutes, but I swear if that bastard finds out I'll…" The rest of the Egyptian's words were lost in the revving of the engine. A slow smile crept onto Marik's face, and with a squeal of tires he was gone.

Amazing, it was absolutely amazing. The teen inhaled deeply as he rode, taking in the voice of the city, the honking of cars, the dancing of lights, and the eternity of road stretching out before him. As he sat on the bike he had no inhibitions. He was finally free for the first time in months. Turning the corner with ease, he breezed past Domino Park.

On foot it was a hostile place, a place of happy couples and community bands, where rich brats played on the swings while their underpaid nannies gossiped in the background. To someone like Mariku the park was out of his reach, yet as he zoomed by it was nothing but a greenish blur, those stupid, happy people no more prominant than phantom angels or imagined saints.

Elation gripping him to the very core, the Egyptian picked up the pace. Maybe if he went fast enough he would be able to leave his old life behind. What if the answer, the completion he sought, wasn't in bed but out on a lonely stretch of highway, winding on into oblivion? _'…hmm…'_ He wasn't sure whether or not this was comforting. Biting his lip in agitation, Marik realized that his time limit was past due. He had to go back.

The second Hell Rider's came into view, the teen's heart gave an unpleasant clench. "…oh shit…" he muttered. _"OH SHIT!" _Akuma stood in front of the bike garage, arms crossed forebodingly over his fat belly. As Marik screeched to a halt in front of him, the man let out an ominous growl.

"Ishtar…"

"I…" Slowly, the Egyptian slid off the motorcycle. "…Boss I…"

"My office. Now."

Mariku fell silent. There was nothing to say. He had fucked up big time and was about to pay the price. Following Mr. Akuma into the sweaty little room he called an office, the teen prayed to every deity known that he might find a way out of this.

"Do you have any idea how much that bike is worth?" Flabby jowls quivering, the man sank down into the chair by his desk.

"I…"

"IT'S WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIFE!" In an instant stone cold anger gave way to helpless rage. Akuma stormed to his feet once more, eyes brimming with hate. He despised Marik, absolutely loathed him. The punk represented everything he couldn't stand, that stupid, cock-sucking pretty boy who ran around like some kind of delinquent, making hardworking people like himself pay the price. "You've fucked up this time, Ishtar. I've given you enough chances."

Though he tried not to show it, the blonde thought he might throw up. Why, oh Ra, _why _had he listened to Varon? "Please, Mr. Akuma! I swear it will never happen again!"

"Damn straight it won't happen again! Now get out of my sight!"

It was as if an alarm bell had gone off in Marik's head. He'd been fired. He'd just been fucking fired! No. This couldn't happen. His mom didn't have a job, her bastard of a boyfriend wouldn't help them out no matter how rich he was, and that stack of unpaid bills on the counter was growing larger with every passing day. "Please, you don't understand! I need this job!"

For a moment it looked as if the man would rebuke him again, but his features suddenly became almost thoughtful. After all, he wasn't completely ignorant of the rumors about his troublesome employee. "Really? Exactly how badly do you need it?"

"I-I'll do anything." Mariku almost choked on his own words. He sounded like some kind prostitute.

"Anything, huh?" Akuma advanced until their noses were just inches apart.

The Egyptian cringed at the older male's stale breath and wondered if he was about to be hit. He wouldn't admit it, but being this close to a man over three times your bodyweight was slightly unnerving.

"Follow me." Ignoring the structure's squeals of protest, the ex-biker plopped down into his seat for the second time and spread his legs. He motioned for Marik to come around to his side of the desk. "You know what you gotta do?"

For a moment the teen stood there, mind racing. Was he really willing to endure this kind of humiliation for the sake of a stupid job? A vision of his mother sitting in their dismal apartment came to mind, and the blonde had his answer. With a jerky nod, Marik sank to his knees.

It was by far the most disgusting thing the teen had ever done in his life. Akuma's flesh tasted putrid, unwashed. He wondered sickly how long it had been since he'd taken a bath. When he was done the man had given a satisfied grunt and smiled.

"Same time tomorrow, Ishtar. Don't be late."

Mariku almost gagged.

* * *

"Marik! Oi! Marik!" 

The blonde just kept walking, ignoring Varon's anxious calls. It was for the boy's own good. At that moment Mariku had about as much control over his emotions as a bird did over the winds that bore him, and he wasn't so sure he would have been able to refrain from beating the Aussi into a bloody pulp.

He strolled across the crowded street. Several cars honked, but he didn't flinch. Who cared if he got hit? The teen already felt a little bit like dying. _'I could use a drink.' _Mariku stopped short. This thought made him think of Club Khonsu…and that stupid white-haired boy who had fucked him in the bathroom. Closing his eyes, the Egyptian tried his best to block those bittersweet memories. He concentrated on the sounds of the people around him. Revving engines, preoccupied voices, music…

"…music?" Now that was funny. How was he able to hear piano music in the middle of downtown Domino City? Glancing up, Marik almost laughed. The sign of a secondhand sheet music store swung creakily above his head. It was from the shop's open door that the sound of the piano trickled through. In no hurry to get home, the boy leaned against a nearby wall and listened.

Mariku knew next to nothing about music, but he knew enough to realize that it was beautiful. It was times like this that he regretted dropping out of school. Not that the Egyptian wanted to be a musician, for he'd never been that musically inclined. He just thought that maybe if he'd stuck it out, he too would have been able to create something enjoyable, something that defied the logic of his stark and dirty world and made his life just that much brighter.

"Who am I kidding?" There was no way Marik could have finished high school and still maintained two jobs. Besides, even if he could, the blonde would never be able to mold anything beautiful. No amount of schooling could give him what that anonymous pianist in the music store had. He wasn't born to make the world less foul. If anything he simply added to its ugliness. Pushing himself off the wall, Marik continued on his way. At the corner he stopped and spat into the gutter, but it didn't help. He could taste the sickness in his mouth, a poison that would never leave.

* * *

"Malik!" Another peel of giggles. "Malik, stop it!" The two boys sat together on the younger's bed. Sunlight poured through the window, warming the blue-painted room. Squirming from his lover's grasp, Ryou bit his lip to keep back the incessant laughter.

The tanner of the two smirked. "You should have told me earlier, Ryou. I didn't know you were ticklish."

"I'm not!" Unable to stifle a smile of his own, Ryou clambered back into his boyfriend's lap. Hands down, Malik was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The formerly shy and often unnoticed teen had been given a new bounciness in his step. Every day, kisses and honey, laughter and whispered conversations on a big, queen-sized bed. It may have been a schoolgirl's fantasy, but it suited Ryou just fine.

"Hey, Ry?"

"Mmm?" The white-haired boy glanced lazily at his counterpart.

"How's your brother been? I haven't talked to him in over a week." Malik frowned ever so slightly. He was going out with Ryou, but that didn't mean he wanted to be separated from his best friend. "Do…do you think he's jealous or something?"

The smaller teen remained silent for a long time before he finally answered. As usual, he chose his words carefully. "It's hard to say. When I told him about us getting together, Kura seemed kind of upset, but he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. And now he's been gone so much…do you think he's just worried about intruding?"

"Touzouko?" Despite himself Malik arched an eyebrow. "Nah! He knows we wouldn't mind. Probably wouldn't care if we did, anyhow. Tact isn't one of your brother's strong points."

"That's true." Ryou sighed. "He's just been such a big part of my life. It sounds childish, but sometimes I'm afraid that we'll grow apart until we don't even know each other's faces anymore."

There was another blaring spell of quiet. It was one of the first awkward moments in their relationship. Ryou looked as if he wanted to say more but didn't, and Malik seemed to be staring off into space, unaware of the very sheets beneath him. Finally the Egyptian snapped from his daze and broke the silence. "Th-there's nothing wrong with wanting to stay together. He's your own flesh and blood. He _should_ stick by you!"

The white-haired boy was taken aback by the bitterness in his lover's voice, the bitterness that quelled the words he left unspoken. "Malik, what's wro…"

"Ryou! Touzouko!" The teen was interrupted by the booming voice of his father. The man had just got home. "I'm back!"

A strange panic churned like bile in Ryou's stomach as the stomps of heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs. He remembered his dad's reaction when he found out his eldest son was gay. What would he do if he discovered the supposedly more innocent of the pair sitting in the lap of another boy? "_Hurry!_" he hissed, leaping from Malik's lap. "Try to look normal!"

Realization suddenly flooded Malik's features. With a slight 'omph' he threw himself to the floor, managing to compose himself just as the door swung open.

"Hey Dad."

"Afternoon, Mr. Bakura."

The man nodded but studied the two carefully. Something wasn't right. "Hey Ryou. Hello Malik." His frown deepened. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why aren't you with Touzouko? You two are normally inseparable."

Ryou felt his mouth go dry and prayed desperately that his lover was smart enough to get out of this one. Outwardly his father appeared calm, even friendly, but underneath was the same accusing bitterness and distrust that he sometimes saw glinting in his brother's eyes as well.

"Hehe!" Malik did his best to laugh and shrug nonchalantly. "That's a good question. I haven't seen him all day."

Forcing a smile, the white-haired boy played along. "Yeah! Do you know where Kura is, Dad?"

"Oh. No, I don't." Nodding curtly, the eldest of the Bakura family backed out and closed the door behind him. Sighing in relief, Ryou winked at his slightly nerve-wracked companion.

"You should go into acting. That was pretty smooth."

Malik grinned back at his little tenshi, trying to through the terrible feeling caused by the man's piercing eyes. "Hey, I was only following your lead." Getting up, he ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "I wouldn't like to get on your dad's bad side though. Kura has balls, I'll tell you what!"

"Yeah…" Trailing off, Ryou thought of his father's burning gaze. "He's really not as bad as he seems. I mean…he's narrow minded but…" The younger of the two choked on a sudden upwelling of emotion. "He cares about us. His anger is how he shows he cares." With a silent sob, he burrowed his face in Malik's chest.

For a long time they sat like that, neither saying a word. The tanner of the two simply stroked his lover's silver down hair, mind filled with a jumble of thoughts and memories. Then…

"Hey Ry?" Malik's voice was desperately gentle.

"Yeah?"

"Kura and your dad are a lot alike, aren't they?"

* * *

As he stepped through the moonlit door of Club Khonsu, Bakura cursed himself a thousand times. How had Jou managed to drag him back to the scene of the crime? The teen couldn't really remember. After leaving the music shop, he had gone over to the blonde's house to shoot pool and break open a case of beer. The more he'd drunk, the more everything had become a blur. How Jounouchi had convinced the prickly youth to come here would forever remain a mystery.

"Come on, Kura! Cheer up, and I'll buy you a drink!"

"Shove it, Katsuya." Glaring dizzily at the beer coaster between his palms, Bakura attempted to ignore the closest person he had to a friend…besides Malik. "I'm not gonna let you get me drunk! Got that?" He rested his head groggily on the counter.

Rolling his eyes, the blonde allowed the shot of vodka he was holding to slide easily down his throat. "Suit yourself, Kura-boi."

Sick of the other's irritating nicknames, Touzouko got up and moved to one of the tables at the other end of the bar. Nursing his alcohol-induced migraine, he watched the dim figures glide about the dance floor. The atmosphere was different than it had been on his last visit. There were more people, and the type of music being played was fast and repetitious. Bakura found this annoying. Those fools couldn't even keep a decent rhythm. Every time the beat changed they ignored it, preferring the standard dry hump method instead. He remembered the swaying, sensuous movements of his dance with Mariku. They hadn't been that graceful or anything, but…

"Fancy meeting you here."

The teen's thoughts were interrupted by a dark, angry, and entirely too familiar voice. Refusing to let his face reveal what had been on his mind, Bakura looked up. "Can't you take a hint?"

A growl bubbled in the back of Mariku's throat, but he managed to pull off a smug, if twisted, smile. "A hint? Heh. That's kind of cute, but you've got me all wrong. I didn't come here looking for you, though since you're here…"

"Could have fooled me." Bakura stood. He was pissed, no, beyond pissed. He stared at the wild-haired boy's cocky smirk and wondered what he had found in him in the first place. "You seemed pretty adamant about me sticking around the other night when I was ripping a new one in your ass!"

Judging by Marik's reaction, the pale-haired teen might as well have slapped him in the face. With a look of pure malice in his eyes, the Egyptian grabbed the table that stood between them and threw it aside. Bakura cried out sharply as he was nailed by an angry fist to the gut. The next punch, this time in the jaw, sent him flying from his seat.

Seeing his opponent sprawled out on the floor, Mariku smiled viciously. "Pretty damn sure of yourself, huh? Pretty damn sure that I'm just another sorry whore you can leave behind whenever the hell you feel like it, aren't you?"

"At least I didn't leave behind my family!" The second he said these words Bakura wished he hadn't. The astonished look that came over Marik's face was almost painful.

"I didn't leave them." Mariku's voice almost cracked. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I DIDN'T LEAVE THEM!" Not bothering to wonder how this boy he'd only just met knew so much about his personal life, the blonde kicked him hard in the abdomen. He lashed out again, trying dumbly to inflict as much suffering as he had just received. Why did it hurt so bad? It wasn't like Bakura had said something he didn't already know. Still, Marik didn't let up. At that moment he hated the paler-skinned boy, hated him with all the rage and vigor of a life lived hard and for the most part quite alone. With a violent shriek he struck out again and again until it was all Bakura could do to keep from screaming.

"Ishtar! What the fuck are you doing?" The second he had entered Club Khonsu, Yami had known something was wrong. The bar and dance floor were empty, and everyone's attention was focused on a pair of teenagers fighting in the corner. The star-haired teen didn't have to force his way through the crowd to know it was Marik's doing. He'd been with the youth just over an hour ago and had rarely seen him in such a vile mood. Something was eating him, and when that happened the blonde resorted to one of two things, sex or violence.

Hearing Yami's shouts caused Marik to pause just long enough for Bakura to gain his footing. "F-fucker!" Grabbing the nearest thing to him, he smashed a beer mug over the other's head.

The sound of shattering glass reverberated through the bar, and a ripple effect seemed to go through the crowd. Immediately they began to back away, trying to dodge the heavy shards. It was then that Yami saw his chance. Shoving his way through the crowd, the crimson-eyed teen made his way towards the scene of the crime. "Ishtar!"

Dazed by the blow, Marik turned to look at him. He could feel blood running down his face and didn't know why. His mouth tasted like bile, his knuckles tingled, and the Egyptian was damned if he remembered why he was so angry. Then his mind began to clear, and once more he focused on Bakura.

"You shit! That was a cheap shot!"

Mariku was about to hit him when a sudden blow from behind sent him to his knees. Yami had decided to stop this fight on his own terms. Pulling him into a headlock, the teen hoped desperately that his much stronger friend wasn't too drunk to recognize him. He also hoped someone would come to his aid soon because he sure as hell couldn't keep Marik down for long.

"It's not worth it, Ishtar! Cool down! It's not worth it!"

"Get the FUCK off me Atemu!"

Bakura, broken beer mug still grasped firmly in his hand, lurched towards them. "Let him up! I'm about to show this bitch just who he's dealing with!"

"I swear Atemu, if you don't get off me right now I'll bash your Ra-damned face in!"

Just as Yami was certain he was about to be thrown off reinforcements arrived in the form of a ratty looking blonde and two very pissed off bartenders. Both Mai and Otogi gang tackled the Egyptian while Jounochi forced his way in front of Bakura.

"Hold up Kura! I get that he insulted you, but I'm not in the mood to see my buddy carried out on a stretcher! What do you say we find another bar, huh?"

"Yeah, you guys better get the hell out of here."

From her position on the blonde's back, Mai's voice came out in a violent hiss. Bakura opened his mouth to reply but stopped as his mind began to clear and he truly took in the scene before him. Mariku was on his knees, two people holding him by the arms, another in a headlock. And despite this he was still fighting with all he had. His chest heaved. The muscles in his shoulders flexed. His straining neck caused blood to dribble down his face at an alarming rate. Even the teen's eyes seemed to burn with the insatiable need to destroy. Bakura gave an imperceptible shudder. "Let's get out of here, Katsuya."

Dropping the broken mug, the white-haired teen followed his friend out. He didn't look back but he could hear Marik cursing desperately behind him. These sounds came to a halt abruptly however as they exited and closed the door behind them with a slam. They hesitated momentarily, the silence of the impending evening weighing heavily on their ears.

"You did the smart thing." Jou's voice sounded thin and sharp in the chill night breeze. "That Ishtar guy….I've heard that he's fucking insane. You shouldn't feel bad…you… man I'd have been scared too with a lunatic like that after me!"

Bakura didn't reply, just stared up into the endlessly blackened sky. He wasn't afraid of Mariku Ishtar, at least not of his muscle mass. No. What bothered Bakura wasn't Mariku's strength. It was the seething anger behind that strength, the wild, vicious, and desperate hatred that he often felt lurking in the depths of his own soul. He wondered how someone could hate the world so much. It was…unnerving.

"Hey." Katsuya began walking down the street. "You coming?"

"Nah. I'm going home." With one last look at Club Khonsu's fluorescent blue sign, Touzouko Bakura limped off in the opposite direction. He didn't understand Marik, but in a way it didn't really matter. He remembered the Egyptian's infuriating smirk, his lust-hampered breathing, his vividly dark eyes, and his deep, smooth, alluring voice. He decided then and there that it was easier to hate someone like that than to try to understand them. The world didn't care about Marik Ishtar, so neither would he.

* * *

**-TOT** (I AM SO SORRY! I haven't updated in over a month! I feel so bad. I just had so much going on, and I didn't know how to continue, and I have about a million other lame excuses that I'll save for later. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter…even if it was a bit prolonged.) 


	5. Old Times

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 4- Old Times**

* * *

"I just don't know what to think of this. After all these years, why would she wait till now to try and reconnect?" Pacing back and forth in the kitchen, Isis Ishtar wrinkled her nose in agitation. "She just waltzed into my office like nothing had ever happened! Gave me her address and everything!"

"Perhaps she misses you and Malik." The calming voice of the woman's cousin, Rishid, seemed to have little effect.

"Misses us? More likely she's out of money and wants to see if she can milk this family for what it has left!"

"Well technically she…"

"You know what I mean, Rishid."

From the doorway to the living room, Malik listened to his relatives' muffled conversation. So his mother had contacted Isis? How strange. It had literally been years since she had even been mentioned in the Ishtar household, and now…

"Is Marik still with her?"

Looking up suddenly, Isis's blue eyes seemed to shimmer with some sort of ungraspable emotion. "I-I'm not sure. I didn't ask."

Despite himself, Malik's stomach churned. Had Marik changed at all in the time they'd been apart? When he tried to remember his brother, the teen's mind called up the image of a risk loving fifteen year old, but that had been over two years ago. Surely he must be different.

'_Wait…why do I care?' _Blocking from his mind the whispers coming from the other room, Malik made his way up the stairs. Mariku was no longer a part of his life. He had left them, left them with nothing more than an undefined reason and the shadow of a goodbye. He wasn't much of a brother, and the blonde would be damned if he ever forgave him. The past was dead. He had his sister and Rishid now, Ryou and Touzouko. Malik didn't need anyone else.

* * *

"Wow Kura! That sounds unbelievable!"

Smirking slightly at his brother's praise, Bakura cracked his knuckles before attacking the keys once more. The teen was glad he had taken up piano again. It was his only escape. His father had been hounding him more than ever lately, and, though he wouldn't admit it, seeing Ryou and Malik so happy together was like a big slap in the face. Since the fiasco with Mariku, he had become lonelier than ever. Bakura now went out of his way to avoid situations in which Ryou and Malik were together. It had gotten so bad that merely seeing the happy couple could ruin his entire day.

Ryou had noticed this strange behavior, and it worried him. His brother had always had a rather loose rein on his emotions, but lately he'd been downright unstable. One moment Bakura would be smiling feverishly, the next looking as if he had half a mind to kill someone. He had taken to staying out later too, and even when their father had grounded him for doing so, the teen snuck out. He would stay the night at Jounochi's then come home around noon with bloodshot eyes and a killer hangover. It was the drinking that got to Ryou more than anything else. His brother was a lot of things, but a drunk wasn't once of them. Sure Bakura had the occasional schnapps or daiquiri, but he never went overboard. Something had to be seriously wrong for him to come home from some random bar with terrible breath and bruises all over his face.

"When is Dad leaving again?"

"Wha? Oh…" Dragging himself from his thoughts, the younger boy met his sibling's gaze. "Sometime this afternoon I think."

"I see." Bakura nodded, making a point of smiling as widely as he could. "Just you and me then. No one around to freak out if I breathe funny or something."

Ryou laughed. "Yeah, and no being forced to hide boyfriends on account of…" The words died on his lips as he noticed a fierce, almost carnal jealousy flashing in his brother's eyes. Quickly the younger teen switched subjects. "Hey, I know! We can go out to dinner. Just you and me. I mean, we haven't had much time to ourselves, what with you being gone all night and me being with…" Damn. Another broken sentence.

A genuine smile graced Bakura's lips for the first time in what felt like centuries. Lately he'd felt so separated from his little brother. Dinner would be the perfect way to reconnect. "Sure, Ry. Just like old times."

Only it wouldn't be like old times. The old times had died on the last day of school when Malik had confessed his feelings for Ryou at the burger joint. Or maybe not. Maybe they had really come to an end that night at the hot springs…that night when Touzouko's feelings for the blonde had run too deep and when the name Marik Ishtar had first cast its shadow on his soul. This tacit knowledge escaped neither sibling. They both understood. Things would never be the same. It was as inescapable as it was devastating. Still, for one night they would pretend.

"Yeah, Kura. Just like old times."

* * *

"Where the FUCK is she?" Anubis Apophis slammed his fist against the wall, causing the apartment's flimsy windows to rattle. "Damnit Mariku! WHERE IS SHE?"

"I already told you." Marik's voice was laced with frigid anger. "She went out."

For a moment it looked as if his mother's boyfriend were about to explode in another tirade, but then a smile crept smugly onto his face. "Fine. Then I'll wait for her here."

The last thing Marik wanted was to be alone in an apartment with Anubis Apophis. That man had brought nothing, absolutely nothing, but trouble to him and his mother since she'd begun dating him two years ago. Wealthy owner of a chain of pawnshops, he still managed to find excuses not to give them money, and to the blonde his reasoning was painfully obvious. Anubis didn't help them financially because he knew that Ishizu Ishtar had once been strong. He knew that if given the chance to get her life back together, she would take her son and leave him, tearing from the brutal man what he loved most…control. Marik was painfully aware of this, and sometimes he wondered if his mother wasn't as well.

"This isn't your house. Get out."

"Now now…" The man narrowed his eyes nefariously. "That's no way to talk to your elders. You weren't that nasty with your real dad were you?"

"GET THE HELL OUT!" Anubis' words had the desired effect. Within seconds Mariku's patience snapped. Lunging forward, he shoved the larger male towards the door. This wasn't smart. Marik may have been more than decent when it came to fighting, but the other Egyptian had muscle to spare and was easily twice his size. Before the teen could get away, one of Anubis' massive hands grabbed him by the wrist.

"How many times 'til you learn, Ishtar? You can't beat me!" Jerking Marik towards him, the man elbowed him roughly in the face. This wasn't the first time he'd been forced to knock some sense into the kid. Stupid brat just kept coming back for more. A cruel smile playing at his lips, Anubis tightened his grip on the youth's wrist and gave it a twist.

Mariku couldn't help but scream. It hurt, but it wasn't broken. No, Anubis Apophis was too smart to let that happen. The man knew how to fight, how to inflict as much pain as possible without leaving any lasting damage.

"Like that, bitch?"

"Go to Hell!" Blood sprayed from the blonde's battered mouth as if to emphasize the command. He used his free arm to punch Anubis in the stomach, squirming from his grip when the man clutched instinctively at his belly. Scrambling backwards, he managed to get the couch between himself and the other, even more violent Egyptian.

Anubis wheezed harshly. He hadn't been nailed in the gut like that since he was Marik's age! _'Fucking brat…'_ He glared at his girlfriend's son, analyzing the teen's jittery movements with a predatory gaze.

Suddenly feeling very exposed, Marik backed up against the far wall. He didn't like the look in that man's eyes. It made him feel hunted. He hated this feeling, this powerless, terrible, prey-like terror that gnawed deep inside and left broken the shell of the person he wanted to be. Because that was Mariku's goal all along, wasn't it? To become so cold that nothing and no one could touch him.

"Not so tough now that you have to face a real man, are you?" As he said this Anubis jumped the couch, effectively pinning the teen up against the wall. "Not such a Ra-damned badass now!" Using brute strength to his advantage, the man twisted Marik's arm until the joints cracked.

Panic seized Marik, and he lashed out blindly with both legs. One met nothing but air. However the other struck Anubis right where it hurt. With a yelp of pain, the man released him, causing Mariku to crumple to the floor.

"What are you, crazy?" The elder male cupped his crotch, and something between a snarl and a smirk lit up his face. "You stupid shit! Are you fucking crazy?" Before the teen could move away from the wall Anubis kicked him hard, catching him in the lower abdomen. "Do you know what I could do to you, boy?"

Marik's body sagged, and a groan of pain reverberated from somewhere deep within his throat. Feebly he tried to crawl away, only to be pinned down as the man's boot ground brutally into the back of his neck.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

Never in his life had Marik heard that level of animosity in the voice of Anubis Apophis. His breathing became short and clipped. "Get out of my…" The teen couldn't finish speaking. Anubis' foot was pressing too hard, and already he could hardly breath.

"Get out?" The man chuckled dryly then, quite suddenly removed his foot from Marik's throat. Gasping for air, the younger Egyptian closed his eyes and merely listened as the other walked over and sat on the couch.

"Get me a beer."

'_What the hell?' _Mariku looked up to find a very smug looking Anubis peering at him from the corner of their four room apartment that served as the den.

"Did you hear me, Ishtar? I said get me a Ra-damned beer!" Anubis smiled as Marik got painfully to his feet and stumbled towards the kitchen. Perhaps he had finally managed to beat him into submission after all.

The teen opened the fridge and rummaged around till he found the last bottle of Coors shoved in the produce compartment. There had been a full case there two days ago. Closing the fridge, Mariku retrieved a plastic bottle opener from his pocket and paused to lick some blood off his lip before limping back into the main room. Expression completely blank, he made his way over to where Anubis sat.

"Good boy."

Marik didn't reply. Instead he used the opener to pop the lid. It yielded with a menacing hiss. He extended his arm, and at first it looked as if he were about to hand the man the beer. However, he ignored the beefy outstretched hand and instead tilted the drink sideways, emptying its contents all over Anubis' head. Then, taking advantage of the shocked silence that followed, he tossed the bottled calmly into his lap and turned to walk away.

For a moment Anubis was too dumbstruck to even move, then realization crept onto his face, and he leapt to his feet. "You little piece of shit!" Grabbing the teen by the shoulder, he spun him around and brought the empty bottle down hard against his jaw. It shattered with a resounding crack. Marik swayed for a moment, almost fell, and then continued to stumble queasily. The blow had come so hard he couldn't even see straight. Still, the twisted irony of the situation didn't escape him. He sure seemed to get hit with glass objects rather often.

"What the fuck are you smiling about?"

Had Mariku not had enough sense left to leap backwards the attack would have been much worse. However this fact didn't prevent him from screaming as the beer bottle's broken edge ripped an arc of angry red across his belly. This was the final straw. Marik could handle no more pain. Clutching his abdomen weakly, he sank to his knees and fell unconscious.

* * *

"You know you really gave me a lot of trouble the other night at the bar." Bakura had stopped by Jounochi's to pick up some stuff he'd forgotten, and of course the blonde had found a way of keeping him there while bitching at the same time. "I've been seeing that girl who helped gang tackle Marik for three months!"

"Really?" Bakura raised his eyebrows and tipped back his peach-flavored schnapps. "So that was Mai. Hope I didn't put your budding relationship on hold, Katsuya."

The other teen frowned at his friend's knowing smirk. "No! For your information you didn't! Now we'd better find that Trig book. Wouldn't want to keep your precious little brother waiting, now would we?"

Glancing at the clock, the white-haired boy set down his drink and began digging under a pile of dirty clothes. "Yeah, you're right. It's almost six." Not finding the text book there either, he got up and dusted his hands off on his jeans. "Screw it. I'll just fork over the money to buy a new one when school starts. I gotta go."

"Later."

Waving dismissively to his friend, Bakura walked out the door and into the warm summer twilight. Jou watched him as he left. Touzouko was known for his mood swings and overall strange behavior, but ever since school had ended it had been worse than usual. He remembered the fight he'd gotten into with Ishtar the other night and shuddered. It wasn't that he hadn't seen Bakura fight before. He'd actually been on the receiving end of his punches on several occasions. It was the ferocity with which he had fought. He had looked just like…well he had looked just like Marik. For about the millionth time that day Jounochi wondered what had really gone on between the two of them.

"Eh…oh well." The teen shrugged and scratched his shoulder. "Kura-boi can stand his own." His words lay to rest no fears but echoed off the walls uncertainly.

By this time Bakura had made it to the end of the block. Turning left he made his way up Oleander Avenue, the biggest street in downtown Domino. He stared at the gray steel buildings surrounding him, trying to remember in which garage he had parked his Volvo. The buildings were all the same. Hell, this city was all the same. He was glad he lived on the other side of town, the side where people had lawns and swimming pools and stupid dogs that yapped at everything that moved. Secretly he felt bad for Jounochi, living alone in a dirty little house that seemed ridiculously dwarfed by the surrounding complexes. The kid's mother lived in America with his sister, and his father had been in prison for armed robbery since he was 12. Not that you could tell by looking at him. Katsuya Jounochi was loud and annoying as hell, but Bakura couldn't help respecting him.

The white-haired teen stopped as he came to the little music shop he'd visited the other day. Had he had the time he would have gone inside. It was a nice place, dark and somewhat funny smelling, but still nice. He stared across the street at one of Domino's numerous repair shops. A fat man in leather was yelling at a teen with brownish red hair and goggles. He looked ridiculous, shouting and waving a wrench around like some kind of monkey. Snorting in disgust, Bakura turned his back on the man and the slummier parts of town and headed towards the parking garage. He was meeting Ryou in just over half an hour and really looked forward to it. At least for one night Touzouko would be able to push his troubles from his mind.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Not paying attention to where he was going, Bakura ran smack into another teen. The boy's crimson eyes flashed, and he realized he'd seen him somewhere before. _He helped break up the fight at Club Khonsu. He's one of Marik's friends._

"_Me_ watch it?" Bakura pretended not to remember, choosing instead to feign outrage. "You ran into me!"

"What?" The star-haired boy shook his head. "Never mind. I don't have time for this." Brushing past the taller male, he trotted on down the street.

Watching him go, Bakura frowned. Why was he in such a hurry? That and why was he heading towards the Domino slums? Bakura would have expected someone that well dressed to live on the other side of town, maybe even near the Kaiba mansion. _Unless he's visiting Marik. _This thought caused an uncomfortable feeling to rise in his chest. Of course it made sense that Marik wouldn't be too well off. After all, Club Khonsu wasn't one of the ritziest places to hang out, and Ishtar was one of their regulars, but for some reason the thought of him living in some crumbling apartment on the bad side of town just wasn't… Wait? Why did he care? Bakura hated Mariku.

Glancing at his watch, the teen realized that he'd have to hurry if he wanted to be on time for once. For one night he would put thoughts of Marik and Malik and everything else behind him. He owed it to Ryou and himself.

* * *

"Ishtar!" Yami pounded frantically on the apartment's door. "Ishtar, can you get up?" There was no answer, but he thought he could hear someone groaning from the other side. Marik had called him just over fifteen minutes ago, using the cell phone left behind by Anubis in his haste to leave the crime scene. The blonde hadn't sounded good, and Atemu was worried. He'd seen Mariku bleeding, drunk, and battered more times than he cared to remember and never, not once, had the blonde asked fro help.

"I'm coming in!" Using all the strength in his lithe body, the teen threw himself at the door, sighing with relief when he felt the cheap lock snap. However this relief quickly turned to nausea as he walked through the door to find Marik leaning miserably against the couch. The front of his shirt was soaked bright red.

"Atemu…" The blonde's voice expired abruptly, giving way to a gasp of pain. Through the tattered shreds of his tee shirt Yami could see a multitude of serrated gashes marring his flesh.

"Ishtar, what the fuck happened?" Dropping to his knees, the crimson-eyed boy carefully pushed the shirt away so he could examine the wounds.

Mariku winced. He could feel minuscule slivers of glass gnawing at his ravaged torso. "The bastard…" Marik had been out cold for a good hour after Anubis had left. When he finally came to it was to find himself alone and so dizzy he could hardly move.

"He did this?" Raw hatred clouded Yami's gaze. He hated Anubis Apophis. Oh, how he hated that man!

"Yeah." The Egyptian nodded weakly. "I uh…well you know."

"Yeah, I know." Fetching a wet cloth and tweezers from the bathroom, Atemu began the painstaking process of dressing the wounds. The teen frowned. Not so deep as to require stitches but still serious enough to cause a good deal of blood loss. Mariku kept his face carefully blank, but the shorter of the two could tell it was hurting him. Why else would he have been desperate enough to seek aid?

"He's never done something this bad to you before, has he?"

Marik shook his head

Yami sighed and began picking bits of glass out with the tweezers. "Then what did you do to piss him off so bad?"

The tanner boy said nothing, but his mouth twisted into a sharp, unnerving smile. Atemu knew it all too well. It was the smile Mariku wore when he'd just beaten the shit out of someone, when he'd won a hundred dollars then lost it all on the next hand, when he'd managed to seduce some undeserving drunk with his venomous good looks. It was the smile that said that despite everything it had been worth it. It had been fucking worth it.

"You can't go on like this, Ishtar." Yami Atemu looked his friend straight in the eye. "People like you die all the time. No one's invincible."

"I know that." Mariku's grin became even more forced, as if it were attempting to span the width of his angular face. "Do you think I'm some kind of moron?" He laughed, grimaced, then laughed again. "Of course people die. It's what we're born to do in the first place."

"You should tell your mother what he does to you."

The smile faded from his lips, and the Egyptian's haunted eyes stirred strangely. "Leave my mother out of this, Atemu."

* * *

"With all due respect, Ms. Ishtar, you must leave that man."

"I-I can't!" The thin woman sitting across from Gaijin Bakura snuffed out her cigarette and buried her face in her hands. "He…he gives me what I need."

The man stared dully at the diner's checkered table cloth. "I'm telling you this as a friend, Ishizu. Apophis is nothing but trouble."

"I know that." Ignoring the tear-smudged mascara on her cheeks, the woman rested her delicate chin against her fingertips. "I'm such a horrible person. My family must hate me for what I've done."

The elder Bakura felt his chest constrict slightly. He'd been a friend of Ishizu Ishtar for years, never telling her that he knew the other half of the family that she'd reluctantly left behind. He just didn't have the heart to tell her that those same people she loved so much couldn't stand the thought of her or Mariku.

"So how are your boys?" Ishizu's once lovely face, now sunken from years of sorrow and drug use, seemed for a moment radiant. Mr. Bakura smiled.

"They're alright. I haven't been getting on so well with Touzouko. He's going through some changes and I…Ms. Ishtar! Are you all right?"

Ishizu winced again as a sharp pain reverberated inside her head. "Yes, I'm fine. It's nothing." She smiled sheepishly. What she didn't say was that her head hurt because Anubis had thrown a beer bottle at her in one of his alcohol induced tantrums. That had been over a month ago, but from time to time Ishizu's temples still ached. The woman was only glad Mariku hadn't been there to see it. He would have been furious, and the last thing the woman wanted was for him to do something rash. She was a dead beat junky mom and she knew it. If her oldest son hadn't insisted on coming with her when she moved out Ishizu wouldn't have had a home. She would have ended up a prostitute, prowling some dirty street for her next john. Yes, Marik was her savior, and if she couldn't support him she could at least protect him from her own mistakes. Anubis may have had her wrapped around his little finger, but she would be damned if he ever touched her son.

"Ms. Ishtar?"

Ishizu was snapped from her revery by the elder Bakura. "Yes Gaijin?"

"I have to go, or I'll be late for my flight. I'll be back in a month. We'll figure out what to do then, okay?" He stood up and bowed slightly.

"Yes, sounds wonderful." Nodding to her friend, the woman's thoughts drifted back to her son. She wondered what Marik must think of her. He was probably disgusted, and she could see why. When Ishizu Ishtar was stoned or hammered she became a different person. Once she had hit him so hard his cheek was bruised for a week, and the terrifying thing was that she couldn't even remember doing it. The woman rubbed her eyes viciously. Come to think of it, it had been after one of those blackouts that she had first met Anubis. If only she could go back in time and erase what she'd done. If only she could find a way to bring her husband back to life.

The woman stared at her reflection in the window. She was a thing of wilted beauty, a rose frozen until it became hard like jagged stone. She was confidant that Malik would be okay. After all, he had Isis and Rishid, but what about Mariku? There were times when Ishizu couldn't bear to look at him. Every day he became colder, thinner, dying a bit more on the inside. She was terrified that one day she'd look at him and see herself, the wasted shell of a human being, but what was she supposed to do? She had no power. Hell, she couldn't even control her own life. It was the drugs that did that.

The woman began to dab the makeup running down her face. "I'm sorry, Mariku."

* * *

-TOT (I had fun with this chapter. Its about time I started writing stories with twistier plots. Anyway, please tell me what you think, and I'll update as soon as I can.) 


	6. Exposed

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 5-Exposed**

* * *

"Ryou, why the hell did you bring me here?" Bakura tried to keep every inch of his body within the shade of one of Domino Park's many trees. "It's too damn hot!"

Ryou slapped his older brother playfully on the wrist. "Oh it's not that hot. Besides, I said we'd meet Malik here."

"But he grew up in a fucking desert for God's sake! Its not fair!" Bakura glared in mock anger at his giggling little brother. Lately he'd been trying more than ever to repress his frustration towards Malik and Ryou. He should be happy for them, not bitter.

"Hey! Malik!" Having seen his boyfriend, Ryou jumped up and began to wave. Even in the unbearable shadow of the sun Malik looked beautiful. The summer rays glinted off him, making his hair glow gold and his skin glint like tarnished bronze. Both white-haired teens felt a blush rising to their cheeks as they gazed upon the beautiful boy. Not even realizing how the sun had transformed him, Malik trotted over.

"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late. Isis was having a conniption over that stain on the carpet." Scratching the back of his head, the blonde plopped down beside Ryou and pulled him into a tight hug. "How're you, babe?" His voice fell to a husky murmur. "Miss me?"

"A little…" The younger boy blushed madly. For the millionth time he wondered how he'd been lucky enough to snag a guy like Malik Ishtar.

Watching the two snuggle, Bakura grinned. It wasn't a happy smile but the kind one wore to repress what they were feeling. He pulled in his knees and tucked them under his chin. Despite the sweltering glare of summer the teen suddenly felt very cold. Things had gotten better since their father had gone off on his dig. There was just that much less stress in his life, but why did seeing the two boys together always make him hurt.

"So are you guys up for a movie later on tonight?" Malik beamed, not noticing or simply refusing to acknowledge Bakura's abnormally sharp grin. "I hear there's a really good horror flick out over at the mall."

Ryou bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. "Sure, it'll be fun!"

"How about you, Kura?" Malik cocked his head and smirked. "It'll take the both of us to keep Ry-kun from screaming himself to death."

"Hey!"

The blonde stifled his boyfriend's indignant response by pulling him into a headlock. "Come on," he said, still addressing Bakura. "Are you in?"

"I have plans."

"Huh? Like what?" Ryou stopped struggling and gazed inquisitively at his brother. "Don't tell me you're…"

"Relax." He ruffled the younger's hair roughly. "I'm just going out to keep an eye on Jounochi. You know how he gets when he goes clubbing, too shit-faced to turn a fucking doorknob."

"Oh, t-that's fine I guess. Just don't get yourself in trouble." Nothing in Ryou's voice suggested that anything was fine. In fact, his anxiety level was through the roof. He knew Bakura was lying. Whether he met Jounochi at one of Domino's bars or not would be completely coincidental. He was simply finding excuses not to go with him and Malik.

Noticing his lover's less than reassured expression, said Egyptian pulled him into a gentle hug. "Don't worry," he whispered in Ryou's ear. "He's Touzouko Bakura. He can take care of himself."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You guys have a good time at the movie. I'm out of here." Giving his friend and brother a half-hearted wave, Bakura straightened up and began to make his way down the path to where the city once more rose to crush the defiance of nature. There was no way he was going to that movie. He'd choose death over watching those two make out for three hours. 'I'll just find something else to do.' Bakura sighed. He knew where he'd end up going. Like the moth to its flame he was irresistibly drawn to the moon god's celestial neon lights.

* * *

"Marik! What happened?" Ms. Izuna rushed to her employee's aid as he stumbled through the doorway.

"I…nothing."

"Marik…"

"I'm fine." The teen leaned groggily against the front counter. The sickness in his gut was only partly caused by the gash residing there. Something worse than any beating had just occurred. "Ms. Izuna, I need more hours. Is there a way you could bring me up to a full seven day week?"

"Seven day week? Mariku what's happened?"

"Nothing…I could just use the extra cash. That's all."

"Well I suppose…are you sure there's nothing wrong?" The old woman studied the teen carefully. He looked paler than usual, as if his tan complexion was simply painted over a paler shade of porcelain. That and he was shaking, shaking badly. If she hadn't known better she would have said he was in a state of shock. "Maybe you should lie down."

Marik almost blanched. "No, I-I have to go. I'll get my new schedule tomorrow morning." He hurried for the door but paused uncertainly. "Thank you."

His voice was so beaten, so completely un-Marik-like that Izuna's fears were immediately confirmed. Marik Ishtar didn't beg. Marik Ishtar didn't thank anyone. Something terrible had happened, and she only wished she knew what. "Oh that poor, stupid boy," she murmured to herself. "That poor, stupid boy."

* * *

Outside the blonde made off in the direction of his apartment. On a normal Saturday he'd be at Hellrider's working on bikes but not today. This Saturday and all Saturdays to come would be spent at Ms. Izuna's convenience store. He had screwed up one time too many, and Akuma wasn't willing to take him back no matter how many blowjobs he was willing to give. Mariku stopped short as a searing pain ripped through his lower torso. Yami must have missed a couple shards of glass because the wound hurt like hell. Picturing the beer bottle being driven into his gut, Mariku prayed that Anubis would be absent when he reached home. He didn't want to have to tell his mother that he'd been fired from his best paying job with that son of a bitch listening to every word.

Not that it really mattered. He'd already been beaten to unconsciousness by the guy. It wasn't like there was anything more degrading. Well maybe there was, but nothing Anubis could get away with when his mother was in the house. That is unless she was too drugged out to notice of course. Mariku laughed darkly. He would just have to take his chances.

Bakura sat at the bar of Club Khonsu, glaring viciously at a couple necking in the corner. "Damn perverts. Can't they get a room?"

"Why so angry?" Having overheard the comment, Mai smirked. "You shouldn't be talking anyway. Lord knows you've caused ten times the scene that they have."

"Hmph." Bakura averted his eyes from the two lovers and gazed instead into the amber mirror of his drink. Despite all the alcohol he had ingested the teen felt brutally sober. That and no matter how hard he tried to focus on the music drifting from the club's stereo, his thoughts always returned to earlier that day in the park, Malik embracing Ryou, kissing his forehead. What were they doing now? Bakura wondered. Probably sitting in the back of the theater making out. Malik's beautifully bronzed hands would be inching their way under Ryou's shirt. The paler boy in turn would be mewling softly, his face buried securely in his lover's chest. They would both be so fucking happy, without a care in the world. "Bastards…I don't give a shit about them."

"Excuse me?" Mai raised an eyebrow. "Do you need some coffee or something? You're totally wasted."

Insisting that he was sober, Bakura downed the rest of his drink and turned from the woman to watch those on the dance floor. As on the first day he had been to Club Khonsu, none of the fools could find the music's rhythm. This annoyed the teen, and his mood further deteriorated. Damnit, at least when he had danced with Marik they had been able to follow the Ra-damned…

"Shit." Through the smoke-filled haze that enveloped the bar Bakura saw a flash of gold. He watched as Mariku made his way towards the counter, pausing every so often to exchange hasty greetings. He looked different somehow, as if instead of being his usual in your face, unapologetic self, he were simply trying to make it through the crowds unscathed. Even when he sat at the bar a couple seats down, the blonde didn't acknowledge his rival's existence. He only sighed and ordered a beer.

For some reason the made Bakura very angry. How dare he? That insolent bastard! How dare Mariku ignore someone like him? He was sick of being thrust aside, sick of always being the third wheel. Were Bakura's enemies even too good for him? No. Mariku would not be allowed to ignore him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Ishtar? Last time I checked sluts weren't allowed in this bar."

Marik's head shot up, and he glared exhaustedly at Touzouko Bakura's unwelcome visage. "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up while you still have a voice box!" "Aww…" the paler teen sneered. "I'm terrified!" He walked over and threw his arm mockingly around the other's shoulders. Slowly he bent down so that his lips were just inches from Mariku's ear. "Come on, cocksucker. It's time we finished what we started."

Stifling a groan as the other's weight put pressure on his abdomen, the blonde stared fixedly at his beer. For once he couldn't bring himself to pick a fight with Bakura. He was too drained. After telling her what had happened, his mother had screamed and slapped him until he'd finally left the house. He couldn't blame her. She was drunk and on so many drugs she probably wouldn't remember what happened anyway, but he couldn't stand to be in that hellhole any longer. Money was now tighter than ever, but Khonsu was Marik's second home, and he needed a fucking drink. "I'm not in the mood."

Bakura rolled his eyes mockingly. "Not in the mood? Ishtar, do you think I care?" Without waiting for a response he grabbed the teen by his collared shirt and jerked him to his feet. "Fight me bitch!"

Mariku gasped in pain as a fist made contact with his already bruised jaw. He raised his hands to block the next blow, but was surprised once again as a well-aimed knee to the groin sent him crashing to the floor.

"You like that," Bakura screamed. "It's where you belong! On your fucking hands and knees!" He laughed, and Mariku felt a chill course through him as he realized just how completely smashed the teen must be. His eyes were bright like broken glass. His breath reeked of gin and whiskey.

So caught up was he in the stifling smell that Marik didn't see Bakura's foot until it made contact with his face. "You piece of shit!" Trying desperately to stem the flow of blood from his nose, the Egyptian scrambled to his feet.  
By now many of the club goers had turned to stare. Those who had not heard of the two boys' previous fight were quickly informed, and all wondered why the infamous brawler Marik Ishtar had not managed to throw a single punch. Mai too saw what was happening and screamed for Otogi and one of the newly hired bouncers to get over there, but it was a Saturday night and the crowds were too thick. The fight would have to play itself out.

"What's wrong, Marik?" Bakura taunted as his enemy swayed dizzily. "I know you can't fuck like one, but I thought at least you knew how to fight like a man!"

A burst of adrenaline coursed through him, and Marik struck out for all he was worth. His blow nailed the white-haired teen in the stomach, causing him to stumble back and overturn a bar stool. He was pissed now. What was that bastard's problem anyway? He hadn't asked Bakura to pick a fight! He hadn't asked Bakura to walk out on him that first night in the bathroom! "I'll show you who fight's like a man, Touzouko!"

Jumping clear of the stool, Bakura lashed out with his foot. Marik wasn't quick enough. His legs shot out from beneath him, and he landed hard on his side. He cried out as his stomach erupted in pain and rolled over onto his back.

This was a mistake. Taking advantage of the situation, Bakura stamped his foot down hard on Marik's abdomen. For a moment even he was startled by the unholy shriek of agony this tore from the other's throat, but it quickly faded as his more sadistic side took hold.

"Do you know what's so revolting about people like you, Ishtar? Do you know what it is about you that really pisses me off?" Bakura paused to spit some coppery fluid from his mouth. "It's how you act like you're so much better than everyone else, like you're so high above us mere mortals that we should be happy just to receive your passing glance. You don't care who you hurt, who you abandon. All that matters to you is that you are worshipped. And the sad thing is that people actually do! They see your good looks and melt, hear your voice and giggle like fucking school girls! But I see the truth. There's no getting around it. You're nothing but a whore, a cheap, easy, fucking whore."

"I-I'm not…" Marik struggled to get up, but Bakura's foot kept him pinned securely to the floor. "I'm not a whore…not to you or anyone else."

Bakura smirked maliciously. "You're not? Okay then, my mistake. I guess that title should be given to your mother."

It was as if some kind of switch had been thrown in Mariku's head. Grabbing the paler teen's ankle with both hands, he braced himself and pushed, sending Bakura flying backwards. In an instant their roles had been reversed. It was the white-haired one who was on his back and the blonde bearing down upon him. Straddling his waist and pinning his arms above him so he couldn't get away, Marik's hot breath whistled angrily in Bakura's ear.

"You bastard…I'm gonna fucking destroy you…"

Without waiting for a response the Egyptian dragged his opponent to his feet and bent him forward over the counter of the bar. Using one hand to push his face into the oak surface, he took the other and twisted Bakura's arm back as far as it would go. He went farther than Anubis had, pressing harder until he heard an ominous crack.

Bakura cried out sharply in pain and toppled over as he was released. Sprawled out on the floor, he cradled his broken arm and glared daggers at the blonde.

Marik smiled and turned his back tauntingly. "It was real nice catching up, Touzouko, but I've got more important things to do." Preoccupied with forcing himself not to limp as he walked away, he didn't notice the other rise until it was too late.

Somehow having made it to his feet, Bakura grabbed the back of Mariku's shirt and threw him hatefully onto the overturned bar stool. The teen fell in such a way that he landed on one of the sideways legs, his body jackknifing over it at the waist. He could actually hear the scabbed flesh ripping, feel the roughened flesh split open like the skin of rotten fruit.

Bakura stepped back and waited. His left arm hung beside him awkwardly, but his right one was pulled into a fist. "Sorry, Ishtar, but you broke the wrong arm. Now get up and fight me!"

Marik rolled off the stool and onto his back but didn't rise. He simply laid there, eyes staring up wide and unblinking into the overhead lights.

"Did you hear me?" Bakura pulled back his leg to deliver another kick. "I said get up!"

"Touzouko wait!" Someone grabbed the back of the teen's shirt and whirled him around. "Don't do it!"

Bakura stared in enraged disbelief at his friend. When had Jounochi shown up? "Let me go Katsuya! It's his own damn fault! He fucking deserves it!"

"Touzouko, look! Look at him!"

Quickly analyzing his enemy's condition, the white-haired boy rolled his eyes. "So he's bleeding, Jounochi! How soft do you think I am?"

"No!" From behind the bar, Mai's paper white face suddenly materialized. "Really look at him."

Mentally counting to five, Bakura forced himself to study Mariku more closely. The blonde was wearing an untucked, collared shirt that buttoned up the front. It was white, but around the abdomen a dark stain had begun to form. It was expanding rapidly, already twice its original circumference. "What the…" A horrible thought struck Bakura as he watched it spread. He couldn't have done that. His foot was too blunt, and if the wound had been caused by something he ran into, Marik's shirt would have torn as well.

"Ishtar, maybe you should go to the hospital." Brushing by his stupefied friend, Jou carefully helped Mariku to his feet. However he pulled back sharply as the Egyptian jerked away.

"Get off me! I don't need your help!" Gazing around him, Marik wondered why Bakura hadn't made a move. He'd been wide open for attack. That and why was everyone staring at him like that? Hadn't they seen a guy take a fall before? Eyes settling on Bakura, Marik lurched forward but almost collapsed as an enormous wave of dizziness threatened to engulf him. Still he forced himself to take another step. "Come on, Touzouko! What the hell are you waiting for?"

"I-Ishtar…" Bakura shook his head, nausea suddenly bubbling up inside him like putrid bile. Was Mariku completely insane? Didn't he know when things had gone too far?

"Damnit, let's finish this!" The Egyptian didn't understand. Just moments ago Bakura had been ready to kill him. Now the boy just stood there, staring. A horrible thought suddenly entered his mind. Gingerly Mariku brushed his fingers over the front of his shirt. They came away crimson. "…fuck…" The blonde clutched compulsively at his chest, trying in vain to hide his injury from all the prying eyes. He couldn't let them see this! No one could know! Not even his mother! It was weakness! He had to hide it! Lurching towards the door, Marik somehow found himself facing the bar. His knees crumpled, but the teen was up again in moments, this time heading in the right direction.

Not caring who he splattered with blood, he forced his way through the quickly scattering crowd of onlookers. He didn't even bother looking at Bakura as he brushed past but left a sanguine smear on the sleeve of his rival's jacket. Reaching Club Khonsu's entrance he had another dizzy spell and slipped, crashing through the open door into the street. For a moment they could hear him scrambling to his feet, then silence. No one tried to help Marik. No one even went out to see if he was gone. They simply stared at the empty doorway as if it somehow held all their answers.

Bakura was the only one not mesmerized by the doorway's yawning maw. Instead his attention was held by the track of blood slowly soaking through the fabric of his clothing. He stared at it helplessly. It was still warm. Something about this blood, it was so red, so thick, like ink. He shuddered.

"Get out."

"W-what?" Bakura stared stupidly at Mai. She was crying.

"I said get out! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Finally he understood. Slowly, Bakura too limped towards the door. The crowd parted before him, flinching away as if the angel of death had been perched upon his shoulder. They said nothing, but he knew that they were blaming him, and rightfully so. It was all his fault. Whatever had been wrong with Marik before, it had been Bakura who had caused the wound to reopen, Bakura who had crushed whatever light remained in his soul. His arm ached, but a broken bone was nothing compared to what he'd done. He'd seen it in Mariku's eyes, something breaking. No, not breaking, just revealed. He had exposed something in the Egyptian, torn apart a carefully constructed veil so that for a moment Marik's shattered soul was cruelly exposed.

Thankful that he hadn't parked too far away, Bakura managed to drag himself to his car and get in. He drove home one-handed, silently praying Ryou had not yet arrived. However as he approached the house, the teen was severely disappointed. Not only was his little brother very much at home, but he was actually perched on the front steps, waiting.

"You shouldn't have waited up." Bakura winced as he got out of the car. "I'm always home by three. You know that."

"I know but I…" Ryou's eyes grew very wide. "Oh my God, Touzouko! What happened to your arm?"

Bakura opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could he even begin to tell his story? It was so complicated, so shameful. If Ryou knew what he'd done he'd probably disown him. Instead of speaking, Bakura did the only other thing he was capable of. He passed out cold.

* * *

Several blocks down the street, Malik Ishtar lay in bed looking through one of his photo albums. It was a strange thing to do, but he often did so when something was on his mind. It helped him think things out. The movie with Ryou had been wonderful. True, they hadn't exactly watched much of it, but it had still been thoroughly enjoyable. Malik thought of his soft-spoken lover and smiled. Ryou was so perfect, loving, sweet, everything he could ever ask for.

Still, he was worried about Bakura. It was painfully obvious that the teen was avoiding them. Was he lonely? Depressed? Jealous? If only Malik knew how to help him!

'Mom would have known.' The sudden thought came unasked for, and at any other time he would have repressed it, but now, sheltered by the night's deepest hours, Malik allowed it to continue. 'Mom would have known how to help Bakura. She was always so gentle, so kind…when she was sober that is.' Malik came to a picture of his mother. It had been taken shortly after her marriage. She was standing with his father in front of some ancient temple. Her green eyes flashed bright and vivid in the desert sunlight.

How beautiful she was, beautiful and strangely cold. Her face was delicate but at the same time very sharp, as if the gods could not decide exactly how to mold her. Malik flipped the page and glanced at it. A ten year old Marik stared back at him. Even at that age it was clear that he had inherited most of his mother's facial features. Aside from his eyes, which were a guarded shade of violet, they were almost identical. Mariku's face was, like Ishizu's, both elegant and cold, supremely lovely and at the same time quite dangerous.

With a heavy sigh, Malik closed the album and thrust it carelessly under his bed. Why did he insist on torturing himself? Neither Marik nor his mother had done anything to retain his trust, anything to justify the unwilling love he held for them. Yet, one couldn't help but love their family, and the more Malik tried to push their memory away, the more he longed for them. Why had they left? They loved him. He knew they loved him. Why then had his mother abandoned them, and what had driven Marik leave with her?

Reaching over to his bedside table, Malik turned off the lamp so that the only light entering his room was that of the stars. What was the use of wondering? Of wishing for things that could never be again? He thought of Ryou. Ryou was strong. He didn't let the death of his mother and sister get in his way. He continued to be a good person despite all this, and, in his own way, so did Bakura.

"I wish I could be like you." Malik closed his eyes and smiled. "Both of you. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." As he floated on the edge of dreams, the boy's thoughts once more settled on his estranged brother. Where was Mariku? Was he safe? Happy? Normally Malik wouldn't have cared, but as with the thoughts of his mother, the deepening night protected him and coaxed his heart to open. "I hope so, Marik. I really hope you are."

* * *

-TOT (I wrote over three-fourths of this chapter in a single sitting so I'm a bit drained, but I knew how I wanted it to be, and I was afraid if I left it I'd forget. Anyway, thank you all for the lovely reviews. They mean a lot to me. Oh, one more thing. If you notice inconsistencies with grammar quality or spacing, I'm really sorry. I'm having trouble with my Word program so I have to transfer everything to Notepad before I can upload it, and the formatting often gets messed up in the process. I'll try to fix the problem in the near future.) 


	7. Home

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 6-Home**

* * *

For Bakura the last three days had been a living hell. All the way to the hospital Ryou had questioned him frantically, almost wrathfully. Then, after his arm was splinted and his wounds dressed, the teen's father had done the same via cell phone. Bakura had done the only thing he could. He told them…well sort of. He'd admitted to getting in a bar fight, but he hadn't said where and certainly not who it was with. As it was, his father had forbidden him to go out at night, citing his son's immaturity and the fact that decent people didn't set foot anywhere near that side of town. Not that this really mattered. There wasn't much the elder Bakura could do about it considering they weren't even on the same fucking continent. 

Still, what was really plaguing Bakura's conscious had nothing to do with any of this. It was Mariku…he had to find him. Every time he closed his eyes the white-haired boy could see the strange look tainting the other's gaze, the blood soaking through the front of his shirt like a blossoming carnation. He couldn't explain his change of heart towards the blonde. He only knew that a sudden and very potent obsession had gripped him. Bakura would find Marik Ishtar even if it meant personally scouring every street in Domino City himself.

Condemned to his bed by his brother, Bakura stared moodily out the window. Summer thundershowers had been plaguing the city all day. The rain had let up for the moment, but in the distance spidery bolts of lightening split ominously across the sky. The teen drummed his fingers irritably against the cast on his arm. _'Damnit Ryou…'_ If it hadn't been for his little brother's insistence, Bakura could be out searching for the Egyptian. Not that he really had an idea of where to start. It was unlikely the Mariku would return to Club Khonsu any time soon. Still, he couldn't just give up. He wouldn't let Ryou keep him locked up in this room forever. There had to be something…someone who knew the location of…wait. That was it!

* * *

"Tou-Touzouko?" Jounochi groaned, hangover barely allowing him to understand the voice coming through the phone's speaker. "W-what are you doin' calling so early?" 

"It's past twelve, Katsuya."

The teen glanced at his alarm clock. "Oh. Um…okay, what's up?"

"Yami, short kid, red eyes, friend of Marik's…where can I find him?"

If his head hadn't been pounding so badly, Jounochi would have done a double take. "Excuse me? Touzouko, after that beating you guys gave each other the other night I think it would be extremely unwise for you to go looking for Mariku."

"I'm not asking you about Ishtar, Jou." Annoyance laced Bakura's every word. "I want to know about Yami."

Jounochi answered tartly "Yami? Yami who?"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid? You know everyone on the club scene. Now tell me, where the hell can I find him?"

"Kame Game Shop. He works for his grandpa, but seriously Kura, I'm telling you this as a friend! For the sake of your own health, stop messing around with Marik Ishta…"

The line went dead. "Damnit Touzouko!" Slamming the phone down on the receiver, Jounochi slapped himself in the forehead. "He's gonna get himself kill one of these days, I swear!"

* * *

The tinkle of the door chime echoed off the walls of the cluttered store. "Welcome to Kame Game Shop. How may I…help you?" Atemu's monotone greeting faded abruptly as he realized who had just entered his grandfather's game shop. After a moment of dumbfound silence, he finally managed to speak. "B-Bakura was it?" 

Said teen smirked. "It seems I'm creating quite a name for myself."

"You could say that." The star-haired boy snorted. Who did this guy think he was? "I don't mean to be blunt, but what exactly do you want?"

"The current residence of Marik Ishtar. I've heard he's a very dear friend of yours, Yami."

"Atemu," the shorter teen answered haughtily. "My name is Yami Atemu."

"Well then Yami Atemu, answer my question. Where is he?"

Inwardly Atemu was fuming. He had heard about the fight just that morning and was in no mood to help its instigator make a bigger mess of things. "Like hell I'd tell you! Get out of here, Bakura!"

"Not a chance." Standing his ground, Touzouko held the other's fiercely crimson gaze. "It is imperative that I find him. Absolutely essential!"

"So you can what? Pick another fight with him? Listen to me! Ishtar has enough problems without a lowlife like you trying to…"

"I want to help him, Atemu!" Bakura's voice contrasted harshly with the elevator style music issuing from the store's stereo system. "You think I don't know he's screwed up? Of course I do! I fucking…"

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Pounding his fist against the counter, Yami glared hatefully at the white-haired boy. "How could some uptown rich boy like you possibly understand what Mariku's been through?"

"Oh, and you do? You're not too badly off yourself, Yami Atemu!" Bakura laughed bitterly. "How did you even meet him in the first place?"

"That's none of your business. Now get out of this store!"

"Not until you tell me where he's hiding."

The scarlet-eyed boy threw up his hands in exasperation. "Give me one good reason."

"I already did! I want to fucking help the guy!"

"Not good enough."

"Damn you…" Bakura seethed. Who did this midget think he was interrogating him like he was some kind of felon? What could he say? What could he…wait. The teen almost slapped himself it was so painfully obvious. "I know his family!"

Atemu's eyes became very wide. "What? You know Ishizu?"

"Not exactly."

"Then who?" Atemu muttered, thinking out loud. "The only other person who frequents their house is Anubis, and he can hardly be considered…"

"I don't know his mother, but I _do_ know Isis and Malik."

"Ex-excuse me?" Taken off guard, the star-haired boy almost choked. Was it actually possible that this guy was telling the truth?

Bakura smirked. Now all he had to do was drive the point home. "When her husband died, Ishizu Ishtar picked up an old drug habit and started dating some lowlife who I'm guessing is this 'Anubis' character. Anyway, she decided to move in with him, and Marik went with her. Malik and Isis are still living in the old house with one of their cousins, Rishid."

"How do you…know this?" Everything the teen had said Yami knew to be true. When he got very drunk, Marik sometimes spoke of his family. He had mentioned Malik, Isis, and on one occasion even the quiet man known as Rishid. There was simply no way Bakura could be pulling this shit out of his ass!

"I know this because I'm telling the truth." Gazing levelly at the other boy, Touzouko exuded an air of complete confidence. "Now tell me, where can I find him?"

For a moment Atemu hesitated. Why should he trust someone like Bakura? The white-haired teen had caused Marik nothing but trouble since they'd met. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to believe that someone cared for the Egyptian on a level even higher than his own. He was willing to take a chance.

"Two blocks east of Domino Park there's an old apartment building. It's quite tall. You can't miss it. He lives on the fifth floor, room 575." Atemu gritted his teeth. "You'd better not be lying about wanting to help him."

Bakura rolled his eyes, a futile attempt to lessen the knowledge that he wasn't in fact as heartless as he wished to appear. "I'm not. See you around Yami Atemu."

The star-haired teen chewed his lip in agitation as he watched the other exit the Kame Game Shop. What was he up to, this Touzouko Bakura? Yami had acted on gut instinct. It was already evident that Bakura had become an inescapable force in Marik's life. However whether he would prove to be an ally or simply another complication remained to be seen. Yami could only hope that his intuition had been right.

* * *

The hall leading to Marik's apartment smelled suspiciously of mildew and urine. Bakura tried not to breathe through his nose as he walked. He was still searching for the Egyptian's room number. For being such a dump, this place sure was huge. Six floors of welfare and minimum wage. A building full of druggies, single mothers, felons, and who knew what else. He'd always been aware that this side of Domino City existed, but like the majority of its middle class citizens, Bakura had found it easier to ignore the poverty. Now, with the sorrows of society so brutally thrust before him, the teen thought of his lovely home and felt something akin to guilt. 

"You lookin' for something, sugar?" A thin, large-breasted woman stood in one of the many doorways, her vermillion lips pursed seductively.

"Yeah, uh…maybe you could help me." Bakura tried to hide his disgust. Her scantily clad body smelled sharply of cheap beer and cigarettes. "Do you know where room 575 is?"

For a moment the woman's grotesquely painted mouth broke into a genuine smile. "You a friend of Marik's?"

"I…guess you could say that."

"Well I know for a fact that he ain't home right now. Not even his mama is. If you go there now, the apartment will be all locked up." For a moment something clouded her bloodshot eyes, but whatever it was quickly dissipated, returning them to their drunken glassiness.

"Then could you tell me where to find him?" Bakura inched backwards as the woman tried to press against him. He could see now that she couldn't be older than twenty, if that.

"Oh I don't know. You sure you don't wanna stay here, sug?"

"No _thank you_. Where is he?"

'Hmphing' indignantly, the woman jerked away. "He's at work. Izuna's Grocery on East Oleander. Anything _else_ I can help you with?"

"Thanks, but that's all the information I need" Bakura turned and walked away quickly, fleeing from the apartment building's stench and the hopeless desperation in the woman's eyes.

Safely back on the street, Bakura exhaled deeply. What had started as a search into the whereabouts of Marik Ishtar had turned into a full out scavenger hunt. Glad that it was Sunday and there were few crowds, the teen made his way down Oleander Avenue. Pulling his jacket to ward of the cloudy chill, the teen kept an eye out for the old woman's convenience store.

He tried to ignore the itching of his broken arm. The damn cast was getting on his nerves. Why was he out here anyway? It wasn't like he owed Ishtar anyway! Sure he felt bad, but in the heat of the moment maybe his emotions had gotten the better of him. There hadn't really been that much blood, had th…

"Shit!" Bakura cast about for shelter as a sudden boom of thunder stirred the turbulent air. Within seconds rain was pouring from the sky. Doing the only thing he could, the boy huddled inside the shallow alcove of a boarded up doorway and pulled his jacket tightly to him. Could things get any worse? Ryou must have noticed his absence by now. What if he called the cops or worse, his father?

Just as he was about to make a break for the lot where he had parked his car, something unexpected caught Bakura's eye. A lone, tee-shirt clad figure was making his way down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. The golden spikes of hair, soaked and dripping though they were, were unmistakable.

"Hey Ishtar!"

Not hearing him through the pattering of rain against pavement, Mariku continued on his way. He looked exhausted, wobbling dizzily as he limped up Oleander Avenue. Every so often he would stop and cast about for shelter but then continue on as if the quest was hopeless. Bakura hadn't thought someone like Marik Ishtar could look so lost. It was as if he were a completely different person.

"Ishtar! Hey! Hey Marik!"

The Egyptian stopped and looked about in confusion. Had someone called his name? No. It must have been a trick of the thunder. No one in their right mind would be out in this kind of weather.

Cursing under his breath, Bakura darted out from beneath the doorway and sprinted across the pavement. Just as he reached the other side of the street the teen slipped, landing heavily on his blonde counterpart. Both winced in pain as their still sore bodies collided and fell.

"What the hell…" Marik shook his head distractedly, trying to comprehend how Touzouko Bakura had managed to appear out of nowhere. He groaned as the other's full bodyweight pressed down upon him.

"Sh…oh fuck!" Scrambling to his feet, Bakura grasped the Egyptian's collar with his good hand and hauled him to his feet. However he pulled too hard, and the boy pitched forward into his arms. Despite the cold Marik's skin felt fiercely hot against his chest. Did the blonde have a fever?

As if suddenly realizing his position, Mariku jerked away. "W-what are you doing here?" The angry words came out miserable and pathetic as he tried to keep his teeth from chattering. "I already broke your arm. Do I need to do the same to your face?"

Sighing in exasperation, Bakura approached Marik and before he could protest slid his arm beneath the teen's shoulder and began hauling him down the street. "I'm not picking a fight with you, Ishtar. Why aren't you at work?"

The Egyptian glared coldly at the other. He had tried to go to work that morning, but Izuna had taken one look at him and told him to go home and rest. She wouldn't have him endangering his health for $5.50 an hour. "Why the fuck do you care?"

"Never mind. I'm parked in the lot at the end of this block. Can you make it that far?"

Mariku didn't answer. Instead he stared dumbly at Bakura, wondering if the paler teen had completely lost his mind. Then a sudden wave of dizziness took him, and he collapsed heavily into the other's arms.

"I'll take that as a no." Shoving his shoulder more securely beneath the blonde's arm, Bakura half led half dragged him under the ledge where he had sought shelter earlier. Marik, too exhausted to continue bickering, sank to his knees and stared out into the flooded streets.

"Doesn't look like it'll let up soon, does it?"

The blonde's gaze swiveled sharply to meet that of his enemy and savior. "Why are you doing this? Do you really like to fuck with me that much?"

"Marik, I'm not fucking with you. I just…are you alright?" The Egyptian was shivering uncontrollably, his eyes going in and out of focus like the lens of a camera. "Shit. We've got to get you out of here."

The long walk to the car was miserable at best. Bakura had wrapped his coat around Marik, but he could still feel the teen's lithe body quaking. Also, the cold caused his broken arm to ache, emitting a twinge of pain every time he took a step. When they finally reached his Civic, it took the white-haired boy almost five minutes of fumbling with his numbed fingers to unlock it. Then there was the whole business of getting a half conscious Mariku into the front passenger's seat. By the time they were on the road, Bakura could have sworn that he had never been so wet in his entire life.

"Ishtar?"

"Uh?" The teen could barely speak.

"I'm taking you to your apartment. Is there anyone at home?"

Deciding to wonder about how Bakura knew where he lived later, Marik's tired mind attempted to wrap around the question. Anubis was at work today, making rounds at all of his pawnshops. His mother usually spent her Sundays at the mosque or the pub depending on whether or not she was sober. "No one's home."

Touzouko nodded. It was probably better that way. Parking as close as he could to the apartment building, he quickly led Mariku inside and steered him towards the elevator.

"It doesn't work. The stairs are over…"

Already knowing where the stairs were located, the white-haired boy made his way over and began the tedious process of helping his companion ascend the five flights standing between them and the correct floor. They made progress far more quickly than one would have expected. Marik found that by staring fixedly at his feet it was actually easier to ignore his dizziness and walk. He stumbled only twice but managed both times to catch himself on the railing. However by the time they made it up the stairs, both boys were exhausted.

"Where's your room?"

The blonde led Bakura down a series of corridors until they came to the door marked 575. Fishing the key from his front pocket, Marik opened the door. The four room apartment was painted stark white with grey carpet and linoleum covering the floor. The only furniture in the main room was a matching sofa and arm chair, an old coffee table, and a television that sat on the floor in the corner. There were no pictures on the walls, only a mirror that hung just to the left of the short hall leading to the bath and bedroom. Bakura glanced at their reflections, splintered by a crack in the glass. "Where do you want to lie down?"

"This way." Marik stumbled down the little hall. Across from the bedroom was one of those accordion style dividers found in campers. Pulling it back, the Egyptian revealed a storage space turned bedroom.

As gently as he could, Bakura helped the other lie back on the battered couch that served as a bed. Pulling the cord of the bulb sticking out of the ceiling, the teen surveyed the place Marik Ishtar called home. He didn't have many possessions. The few things he did own were packed in boxes turned sideways to create makeshift shelves. Not much…a radio, alarm clock, couple of shirts, pair of jeans… Somehow Bakura got the feeling that Marik didn't like spending time here, probably came in only to sleep.

"You need anything?"

The blonde shook his head and stared queasily at his companion. "I don't get you Touzouko. I mean, why'd you…"

"You have a fever." Removing his hand from Mariku's forehead, Bakura went to the kitchen to get a wet cloth. Skirting around the card table set up in the cramped room's center, he waited by the sink for almost four minutes before the water got warm. He grabbed a glass of water and some aspirin from one of the bathroom cabinets before heading back to Ishtar's room. The Egyptian looked a little better, but he was still shaking.

"You should change into something dry."

Marik eyed the other sharply then, deciding there was no hidden meaning in Bakura's words, pulled himself into a sitting position and began to kick off his clothes. "Hand me a shirt and those jeans."

"Yeah, sure." Tossing the requested items over Bakura couldn't help but notice his counterpart's lack of underwear. He noticed other things as well, like the bandages wrapped poorly around his abdomen and a multitude of bruises that may or may not have been caused by their previous brawl.

"Damnit, would you stop staring at me?" Marik was still on edge. He didn't know why the white-haired teen was being so generous, but he didn't trust him for an instant. "If you want a thank you it's yours, okay? I admit it! _I owe you!_"

"Fuck you!"

"Excuse me?"

Bakura massaged his temples with trembling fingers. "Don't you get it? Life doesn't _have _to be like that! I'm not helping you because I want something in return! I'm helping you because I…"

It seemed the strain of Mariku's anger had been too much. Bare chest heaving, he sank back onto the couch. He shuddered. "Why the hell is it so cold?"

"Here." Placing the cloth on the blonde's forehead, Bakura helped him take the aspirin tablets. "You should probably eat something."

"N-no food. What are you doing?" Marik growled weakly as the other teen began rummaging through his things. "Get out of my shit!"

"I need a blanket."

Mariku rolled his eyes. "The only one's are on the bed in the other room."

"I'll go get one."

"What? No. I'm not even touching one of _those_ sheets."

"Don't be…fine, but I'm redressing that."

"Redressing wha…no!" Clutching at his wounded stomach, the Egyptian glared vehemently at the other teen. "You've already done enough. Just leave!"

Ignoring the tanner of the two, Bakura disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with some bandages and another hot rag. "Lie back. This won't take long."

Too tired to argue any longer, Marik let Bakura do the job. Clumsy though he was because of his broken arm, the white-haired teen was still surprisingly gentle. He made sure not to press too hard as he cleaned the tattered flesh and even managed to extract a few stray pieces of shattered glass with a minimum amount of discomfort. By the time he was done, Mariku's fever was down, and he'd fallen into a light slumber. With his eyes closed, the blonde's features appeared softer. His delicate brows had relaxed, and his lips were parted in a way that was almost inviting. Unable to help himself Bakura trailed his fingers across the other's cheek. He hadn't expected his skin to be so smooth.

"Uhh…" Marik gasped slightly and opened his eyes. Bakura didn't move his hand. Instead he knelt down and placed his lips softly on those of the groggy Egyptian.

"Who did this to you?"

Mariku shuddered as the paler boy whispered into his mouth. How could someone he hated so much do this to him? "It's of no concern to you."

"Oh?" Praying that he wouldn't be bitten, Bakura slipped his tongue past the other's lips. He tasted good, wet, _hot._ A sudden moan from the blonde encouraged him, and Bakura eased himself down until he was straddling his hips. "Tell me."

Marik trembled from the lack of warmth as his lips were released. "W-why do you care?"

"I have to have a reason? You do know that I could just ask Yami, don't you?"

Growling, the Egyptian tried to push the other boy off of him. "Don't you fucking dare, Tou…" His words cut off abruptly as a warm hand pressed itself against his crotch.

Bakura smiled as he worked his hand under the hem of the other's pants. "Come on, Ishtar. Tell me."

"I…" Shame hit Marik like a blast of heat. Turning his face so he would not have to meet Bakura's gaze, he tried to ignore the sick pleasure creeping through his veins. "A-another fight."

"With who?" Bakura continued to pleasure him mercilessly, his torture causing the blonde to buck viciously.

"If you w-want to know so bad, ask Yami!"

Retracting his hand from Mariku's privates, the Bakura gave the boy beneath him a piercing glance. "It was that Anubis guy, wasn't it?"

The Egyptian's cheeks became hot in a way that had nothing to do with his illness. That had been Touzouko's reason for coming all along. He wanted to put Mariku in his place, show him what a weak little slut he really was! "Get the fuck out of my house!"

Bakura flinched as the teen's dark voice cracked like the face of that mirror. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw tears of shame glinting unshed in the Egyptian's eyes. He hadn't meant to humiliate Marik. "It's not like that, Ishtar! I just…"

"I don't want to fucking hear it! You come into my house, pretend to care, then manipulate me into telling you something that you'll just use against me later!" The tanner boy struggled to get out from under Bakura but found the attempt to be hopeless. "Are you happy now, Touzouko? Do you need me to say it? Fine! I admit it! I'm weak! I'm below you! I'm nothing but a cheap, easy, fucking…"

Not knowing how else to quell Marik's rant, Bakura slapped him, hard. "SHUT _UP_!" Hitting him in the face again, the teen bent down so that their noses were just inches apart. "Don't say that! Don't EVER say that! Do you hear me? You're _not _weak! You're _not_ easy! _You're the hardest fucking person I've ever met!"_

For a long moment there was silence. Neither boy was able to speak. They simply stared off at their surroundings, trying to find something to stare at rather than the other's dumbstruck expression. Finally, as if rousing himself from a heavy sleep, Bakura got off Mariku and walked from the room. He could feel the Egyptian's eyes following him until he disappeared into the living room and out the door. If Marik didn't want his help, fine. He wouldn't get it. Bakura maintained this philosophy until he was almost halfway down the hall. Sighing in defeat, he stopped and pulled out his phone.

"Ryou?"

"Oh my God Touzouko! Where are you? You shouldn't be…"

"Ryou I'm fine. Listen carefully. Is Malik around?"

"No, I'm home alone. Listen Kura, if this is about…"

Bakura snarled in frustration. "This is NOT about Malik, now pay attention! I'll be home in half an hour. I want you to go into the guest bedroom and make sure it has clean sheets. Can you do that?"

"…yes, I-I suppose, but…"

"No questions. Just do it." Cell phone clicking shut with a snap, Bakura whirled around and marched right back through the door of room 575.

"Hey Ishtar!"

There was no answer. Instead Bakura was forced to make his way back to the Egyptian's room. He found Marik sitting upright on the couch. He was staring fixedly at his hands.

"Get your shit together. We're leaving."

The blonde looked up, his normally cold expression shattered by exhaustion and conflicting emotions. "What?"

"Here, I'll help." Grabbing one of the boxes, Bakura flipped it over and began shoving into it everything he could find. The blonde didn't move, but stared on in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

The paler teen looked at Mariku in a way he hadn't since that night in the bathroom. "You can't stay here, Marik. You're coming with me."

* * *

**-TOT (Thank you so much to all those who reviewed. They are very much appreciated.)**


	8. First Reunion

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 7-First Reunion**

****

* * *

The next morning Bakura slept in until well past ten. When he finally did awake it was to a painfully bright sun shining through his window. The white-haired teen groaned, trying to analyze the previous night's events. It was hard. He'd had a dream about his mother, and bits of it lingered along with the details from Marik's apartment. Deciding that a hot cup of coffee would help him sort through his thoughts, Bakura got up and made his way downstairs.

"Morning, Ry."

No response. His brother just stared at him from where he stood by the toaster, his eyes a mixture of anger and curiosity.

The elder of the two frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Touzouko, who is he? That boy you brought home with you last night?"

"Ryou wha…oh." Like the lens of a camera, Bakura's mind snapped suddenly into focus. He'd invited Marik fucking Ishtar to stay at his home. Well actually insisted would have been a bit more accurate. He gave Ryou a sheepish look. "Uh…how is he?"

The younger of the two gave his brother a pointed look. "_Who_ is he?"

"A friend."

"He looks like Malik."

"Well he _is_ Egyptian."

"You know what I mean."

Bakura hesitated "Do you promise not to tell him?"

"…of course not, Touzouko."

* * *

The first thing Marik noticed when he woke was how incredibly comfortable he was. He was wrapped in something soft. It smelled of linen and laundry soap. The teen hadn't slept so well in ages. Keeping his eyes closed in case this was some kind of dream, Marik rolled over so that his head was above the sea of blankets. Wherever he was the blinds must be open, for he could feel the warmth of sunlight caressing his face.

Wait. Sunlight! What time was it?

Lurching to his feet, Mariku's eyes darted nervously about the unfamiliar room. Where the hell was he anyway? How had he ended up, still fully clothed, in an otherwise unoccupied bed? Wait. Bakura. He'd gone home with Bakura last night!

Ignoring the now customary twinge of pain in his abdomen, Marik left the room and began descending a rather steep flight of stairs. As he passed he glanced at a clock near the banister. _'11:34. Damn.' _He was already over four hours late for work. The stairs led to a well furnished living room. Wading out onto the sea of blue carpet, the Egyptian couldn't help staring at the many interesting objects. Vases, bookshelves, a piano. Panicked and disoriented though he was, his eyes didn't miss a single detail. He noted the particles of dust illuminated by sunlight as they drifted in front of the curtains, the photos of a little girl that lined the mantel. This was nice house, but in a way it was also sad. Mariku recognized in it the same quiet loneliness of his own home, the remnants of an unforgotten sorrow.

"Did you sleep well?"

Whirling about sharply, the teen was surprised to find himself facing another, younger-looking boy. It was obvious that he was related to Touzouko. If this one's persona hadn't been so different, they would have been almost indistinguishable.

"Who are you?"

Ryou frowned. Bakura hadn't been kidding when he'd said Ishtar had a lot to be desired when it came to manners. "I'm Ryou. My brother's in the kitchen." Marik hesitated, and the younger teen could sense the air of distrust surrounding him. He reminded him of a tiger trapped pacing in a circus pen. His eyes, like those of all caged wild things, were filled with a desperate longing, both dark and radiant. Even more disturbing was how much he did and did not resemble Malik. Same skin, same golden tresses, but Mariku's voice was gleaned of tinted shadows, his face sharp and chiseled, his gaze reflecting desolation in a way that Malik's never could.

"Are you going to show me to your kitchen, or should I try to find it on my own?"

"Oh…OH! S-sorry, I spaced out for a minute." Ryou's voice became higher and more effeminate as his nervousness increased. "Right this way!"

Bakura studied Marik carefully as his brother led him in through the arched doorway. He looked better than he had last night. Still, the blonde could use a bath and several good meals. Trying to feign indifference despite his scrutiny, the paler teen leaned back in his chair and smirked. "So you didn't die in your sleep after all."

"Kura! That's no way to treat…"

"Go fuck yourself." Brushing past both brothers, Marik headed straight for the phone. He should at least call Ms. Izuna and give her a slightly edited version of why he was late. However just as he was about to dial the store's number Bakura snatched the phone from his hands.

"Don't bother. Everything's taken care of."

"You called my boss!"

"No. I called Yami, who called Izuna, who, I'm not certain but I'm guessing, said it was fine for you to take a couple days off. Any problems there?"

Growling under his breath, the Egyptian slouched against the wall. What was with this guy? One minute he was trying to help him, the next attempting to destroy his life. Didn't he get it? It wasn't about keeping the job! Hell, Mariku wasn't stupid! Izuna would never fire him. She had too good of a heart. What concerned him was the money, or rather the money he wasn't making. There were bills and groceries and repairs and fuck! Sometimes it was just too overwhelming.

"Um…would you like some tea?"

Glancing up at Touzouko's kid brother, a long dormant memory came unbidden to Marik's thoughts. Long ago, lost amid the now fuzzy recollections of childhood he suddenly remembered going to the beach when he was ten. Isis and his father hadn't been there, only him, his mother, and Malik. He remembed his younger brother's smile as he crouched over one of the many tide pools, how he had laughed watching the starfish and anemones, the minnows that darted through the water with feather light quickness. However just as quickly as this memory had surfaced it was gone and Marik couldn't help wondering if it had really happened or was just a dream.

"Well Ishtar? Do you want some fucking tea?"

Ignoring Bakura, the Egyptian turned back to Ryou. "Yeah, sure."

Relieved, the younger of the white-haired teens busied himself with the kettle. He needed to do something. Even boiling water was better than watching two badly tempered boys glare gaping holes into each other with their eyes, but come to think of it, things could have been a lot worse. Before Mariku had woken up, Bakura had given him a quick summary of the events leading up to the Egyptian being brought to their home. Some of the details were pretty gruesome, and now, looking at him, Ryou could see many indications that Marik Ishtar led a very hard life.

"Do you want some ice for that?"

Marik glanced over at Bakura's brother. "Huh?"

"Your stomach." Ryou flushed. "Is it sore? Do you want me to get an ice pack while I'm up?"

Bakura snorted. "Don't be stupid, Ry. Get a warm water bottle. It feels ten times better."

"…oh…sorry. Marik, would you like a…"

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Bakura stood up and pushed his little brother out of the way. Mariku watched the siblings interact, noting the elder's air of annoyance and the hurt look that passed over Ryou's face. It was classic. Just like Malik and himself when they were young.

Bakura chucked the bottle at the Egyptian, who caught it just in time. "Put that against your skin, well against the bandages anyway. And don't be a smart ass! Just do it!"

Nodding distractedly, Marik pulled up his tee shirt and pressed the warm bottle against his abdomen. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to object to the white-haired teen's orders, and the warmth of the water bottle really did feel soothing.

An awkward silence filled the room and Ryou, ill at ease, stared sickly at Mariku's bandages and the purplish bruises surrounding them. He had bruises everywhere in fact, on his arms, his neck, his face. Could this really be his boyfriend's brother? Why had Malik never told him? Didn't he trust his own lover?

"I-I think I'm going to go on a walk." The older boys looked up as Ryou began backing from the kitchen. "I need some fresh air, and it's so nice outside, and I…"

"Kid, if you want to go then go. No one's stopping you."

For a moment Marik and Ryou's eyes met. The blonde's words sounded harsh, but nothing in his features suggested that he'd meant them as an insult. For all Ryou knew he was trying to be nice. Either way the boy knew he had to leave. He'd promised not to tell Malik that Marik was here, but he'd said nothing about not asking questions.

"Right. Bye then."

As soon as his shoes were on Ryou was out the door. It was only Marik and Bakura now. Each avoided the other's gaze. The loathing they'd once had for each other had been replaced by an awkward insecurity. Finally, Bakura took a breath and breached the formidable silence.

"Why did he do that to you?"

"Huh?"

"Anubis. Why'd he hurt you?"

"Oh that." Mariku grinned, causing the other to give him a strange look. "I dumped a beer on his head."

Despite himself, Bakura gave a short, barking laugh. He might have known. That was just like Marik, wasn't it? Composing himself, the white haired teen tried to glean as much information from the Egyptian as he could. "Does he always beat you that badly?"

Marik's grin gave way to a far more guarded look. "I don't sit there and let him do it if that's what you mean."

"No I…listen, don't make this difficult. I'm trying to make it up to you!"

The blonde shook his head. "I just don't get you." With an exhausted sigh he pushed himself off the wall and sat down across from Bakura. He didn't feel so hot.

"Shit…" It seemed that the paler teen was a limitless pot of questions. "How did you get through work? Someone as sick as you should be in bed!"

"It was…difficult. Th-the first day after was the worst. I passed out, woke up really late and I…" Mariku meant to stop there, but the words just kept coming. For the first time in a long while someone was willing to listen. "I got fired…not by Izuna, by my other boss."

"Other boss?"

"He owns Hellriders'. You know, the bike shop across from that one music store."

Bakura swallowed hard, remembering the fat man and the boy with the goggles. "Yeah, I know the place."

"Anyway, he fired me and… This one time, I was such a dumbass. I took one of his customer's bikes for a ride. Well Akuma caught me, and he was all set to fire me so I…"

A strange, nervous laugh that Bakura had never heard before escaped from Marik's lips. He'd started shaking again.

"Finish your story another time, Ishtar. I think you should get some rest."

Marik nodded groggily. What was wrong? He'd felt fine just ten minutes ago. A horrible tickling sensation rose suddenly in the Egyptian's throat. _'Fuck.'_ Scrambling to his feet, the teen had barely made it to the sink when he started retching.

Bakura listened helplessly as his companion gagged, his empty stomach spewing nothing but a thin, translucent bile. His head bobbed. His protruding shoulder blades rose and fell. Finally, when Marik's retching had died down to sporadic coughing, the paler of the two rose and wrapped his good arm around his waist.

"You're going back to bed."

The Egyptian shook his head. He felt filthy. He needed to bath. "Shower. I want a fucking shower."

"…okay, fine."

As carefully as he could with a broken arm, Bakura helped the feverish teen down the hall to the bathroom. He watched as Mariku's eyes lit up at the sight of the tub, an old, porcelain structure with a curved lip and clawed feet dipped in bronze.

"You want to take a bath instead?"

Completely ignoring the other boy, Marik began to strip down. Bakura turned to go but lingered in the doorway as the Egyptian pulled roughly at the gauze around his middle. Cursing quietly under his breath, Marik jerked at the bandages in frustration. However, this achieved nothing but a pain filled hiss.

"What are you trying to do, kill yourself?" Coming up behind the short tempered teen, Bakura shooed away the other's hands and did the job himself. "You need to acquire some patience, Ishtar."

"Shut up." Jerking away, Mariku began fiddling with the bathtub's taps. He watched as steaming hot water began to fill the basin. He hadn't had a real bath in ages. This was going to feel fantastic.

"That water's too hot you know. It's going to aggravate your injuries."

"Who are you, my mother?" Snarling in agitation, Marik threw one leg over the lip of the tub. "And since when do you know about this kind of shit anywa…" The blonde's words died to nothing as he noticed the flush covering Bakura's cheeks. The paler teen's eyes weren't fixed on his face either. Rather they were more occupied with the current position of his unclothed body. A slow smile crept over Marik's face as he swung his other leg into the tub. "You weren't planning on joining me, were you Bakura?"

"What! I…no. No I wasn't." Touzouko hurried from the room, closing the door with more force than was really needed. He could hear the other chuckling quietly from the other side. _'Damn it, Mariku. What are you doing to me?'_

* * *

Ishizu Ishtar lay on her bed, bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling. Where was Marik? The woman had come home last night tired and tweaked out of her mind. This time it had been vodka laced with LSD. Not a good trip. When she'd woken up to an empty apartment, Mrs. Ishtar hadn't been too worried. Her son had a loose curfew, but when she'd noticed all his things missing, the woman had thrown a fit. Had the boy who'd stuck by her all along finally gotten fed up? Had he really abandoned her?

Ishizu couldn't blame him. She couldn't even find it in herself to hate the boy. Mariku had done what any intelligent person in his position would have. At least he wouldn't get hit anymore, by her or her boyfriend. _'Yes,_' the woman thought. In the back of her heart she'd always known about Anubis' abuse. It had just been so easy to ignore. Marik had never mentioned it, and in her stupidity Ishizu had hoped it would all just disappear.

"Hey! Ishizu!"

Anubis was calling her from the kitchen. Slipping into an old robe, the woman tried to muster as much courage as her soul would carry. This couldn't go on any longer. She'd already lost a husband and two of her children. Ishizu would let no one, not Anubis Apophis or anybody else, take from her the only son she had left.

"Damn it woman! Get in he…" Anubis stared openly at Ishizu as she entered. She wore an expression he had never seen before. Beneath her smeared makeup and unkempt hair was a sort of regal dignity, tarnished perhaps but still purposeful.

"What is it?"

Even her voice held an unusually cold quality. In a way she sounded almost like Marik. It took Anubis a moment to reply. "Where's the beer? Didn't you send the brat in to get some?"

It was as if something dormant had been woken. A palpable shudder wracked Ishizu's figure, and in one whipcord motion she smacked her boyfriend hard across the face.

"Don't you _ever_ call him that!"

Smack. Again and again her emaciated body reeled back to strike the brutal man. "Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

For a moment Anubis was too dumbstruck to respond. In a million years he would have never thought Ishizu had it in her. She was a violent drunk, but not towards him. He'd always been able to control her. Why then had the woman suddenly grown a spine? Hell! It didn't matter. He'd show her where she belonged! He'd beaten some sense into the boy and he would do it to the mother if he had to! Grabbing Ishizu by the wrists, Anubis shoved her roughly to the floor.

"No one talks to me like that! YOU HEAR ME? NO ONE!"

Tears blinding her vision, Mrs. Ishtar rose to her feet. She stared into Anubis' eyes, his angry, hateful, pig-like eyes! She hated him. Oh, how she loathed this sick, sick man!

"G-Get out of my…"

"SHUT UP!"

From down the hall the red-lipped girl who had talked to Bakura blew smoke through her nose and turned up the radio. "Why the hell they always fightin'? Can't they see some people round here are still tryin' to sleep?"

* * *

"What's wrong babe? You've barely said anything all afternoon." Malik frowned in concern at his angel-faced lover, wondering what could have happened to make him pout like this.

Ryou sighed and leaned back onto the sheets covering Malik's bed. He could sense the other teen's worry as if it were actually tangible. "Malik, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why…why didn't you ever tell me you had a brother?"

Almost choking on his own surprise, the golden-haired boy gave him a look of complete astonishment. "I-I…who told you that?"

"Well, the thing is…" Damn it. Ryou had never been good at lying. "It was…that is…I overheard your sister and Rishid talking and I…please don't be upset! I didn't mean to!"

"Oh…no, it's alright." Malik actually looked as if he bought it. "I'm sorry Ryou. Really, I am! I swear I would have told you sooner. It's just that it's kind of a sore subject with me." The teen stared at his hands dejectedly. "I-I don't want you to think I don't trust you. You don't, Ry, do you?"

"Of course not!" Forcing a smile, Ryou wrapped his arms snugly around his lover's chest. "Why should I? We've never been anything but honest with each other." Another lie, and this one stung worse than the last.

Smiling with relief, Malik leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the younger's lips. "Thank you, Ryou Bakura." The blonde pulled himself on top of the smaller boy. He loved him, every inch of his skin, the smell of his hair. Malik simply couldn't get enough. He…

"Why did he leave you?"

Malik's eyes grew wide. "Wh-what? Oh." A sigh whispering past his lips, he ran a hand absentmindedly through his lover's tresses. "I don't…really know. Marik is unpredictable at best. He…he doesn't care about people! Or their feelings. All that matters to him is what _he_ wants."

Ryou lowered his gaze. "I see."

"After Dad died it got worse. Our mother, she couldn't hold herself together." As with that night at the hot springs, Malik couldn't stop speaking. Instead he continued, spilling his heart out to the paler boy beside him. "When she left he went with her. W-we haven't seen them since."

Staring at the other's tear laden lashes, Ryou didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected it to be this hard for Malik. He'd never seen him cry before. "I'm so sorry!" Burying his face in the Egyptian's chest, Ryou tried desperately to make him feel better. "I know how awful it is to lose someone you love."

"…it's…it's okay, really. Don't worry about it." Malik paused to blink furiously. "When they left I realized something. Marik didn't give a fuck about me, and neither did my…"

The teen was interrupted as the telephone began to ring. Cursing quietly under his breath, he got up and answered it.

"Hello, Ishtar residence."

"Malik?"

The Egyptian's eyes grew very wide.

* * *

"Oh, for the love of God!" Bakura couldn't decide whether to laugh or rant. Wanting to check up on Mariku, he had entered the bathroom only to discover that said teen had fallen asleep while bathing. Luckily he'd been propped up against the sides of the tub, or Marik most certainly would have drowned. Not quite ready to wake him up, Touzouko took a moment to scrutinize the other's naked body. Even with the injuries, it could have been a thing of worship. With his slender waist, long legs, and broad, swimmer's shoulders Marik could have served as a statue of the gods.

"Wake up sleeping beauty." Giving him a good shake, Bakura watched as the Egyptian's eyes cracked open. He looked even better awake.

"Huh? No…need more sleep…" Marik turned away from his aggressor only to be met by a nasty surprise as he inhaled water rather than air. Spluttering, he bolted upright. "What the hell?"

Bakura was unable to control himself any longer. Throwing back his head, he let out a long throaty laugh. Mariku just sat there and glared.

"Just what the fuck happens to be so Ra-damned funny?"

Bakura gave the blonde his version of an amiable smirk. "Don't play stupid, Ishtar. You're not always as poised as you'd like to be!"

Marik responded by giving his head a good shake, his hair sending water droplets flying in all directions.

"Hey! Watch the splint! It's not supposed to get…"

"Oh, like you care!" Hauling himself from the tub, the Egyptian landed heavily on Bakura's chest, knocking him over. "We both know the only reason you came in here was to molest me with your fucking eyes."

All the white-haired teen got off as a reply was a disgruntled 'hmph' before Marik decided to shut him up. The blonde kissed him, hard. It was as if his entire soul were behind it. Even his body, hot and wet from the bath, seemed to be throwing itself into the moment. Mariku was digging deep, trying to express his lust, his thanks, and his confusion about the whole situation. When he pulled away Bakura couldn't help but be mesmerized by the shimmer of saliva clinging to his parted lips.

"What was that for?"

Marik grinned. "Don't tell me you didn't like it."

Bakura responded by licking his lips. "Care for a second round?" Wrapping his legs around the other's hips, the paler flipped them over so that he was on top. Before he knew what hit him it was Mariku's turn to be assaulted. Not that he really minded. Bakura's tongue in his mouth suited the Egyptian just fine. He opened wider, adoring the way the other's slick appendage was capable of fully ravaging him.

Bakura too was getting excited. Wanting some relief for his newly acquired arousal, he began to grind roughly against the other's crotch. This earned him momentary satisfaction but caused Mariku to yelp in pain.

"Shit." Muttering curses under his breath, the teen crawled hastily off his tanner counterpart. In the heat of passion he had forgotten that the Egyptian was still very much injured. He couldn't let his libido jeopardize Marik's health.

"You alright, Ishtar?"

The blonde nodded and tried to regain his feet, but the exertion had been too much. Face contorting with shame and frustration, he looked to Bakura for help.

Touzouko said nothing as he led the trembling blonde up the stairs. He could tell by the look in Marik's eyes that the dependency was driving him crazy. For so long he had lived in a world where one could rely on no one but themselves, and the idea of outside assistance was both new and rather frightening.

"Here. Wear these." Digging through the bureau near the door, the paler teen tossed the still naked Mariku a pair of boxers. "If you get cold there's a sweatshirt and some pants in the bottom left drawer."

Pulling the underwear over his knees, the Egyptian stared wonderingly at Bakura. In a million years he would never have suspected him of possessing so much as a hint of maternal instinct, and here he was, practically nursing him back to health.

"Need anything else?"

"No."

"I'll bring you something to eat."

"I'm not…"

Bakura snorted. "You haven't eaten in over twenty four hours, Ishtar. I'm getting you some fucking soup and that's all there is to it!"

"…fine…but bring up some aspirin too."

"Tylenol okay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Down in the kitchen, Bakura reflected on Marik's situation as he waited for the microwave to beep. There were certain complications about him staying here that would soon have to be addressed. The teen's father for one. Touzouko was willing to bet money that the elder Bakura would be anything but happy once he found out that another boy was staying with his gay son. Notifying the rest of Mariku's family would also pose a problem. They couldn't hide this from Malik much longer, and certainly Mrs. Ishtar would soon start to worry.

A sudden rapping on the door caught the teen's attention. Opening it, he was surprised to find himself face to face with Yami Atemu.

"Yami?"

"Hello Touzouko. Mind if I come in?" Not waiting for a reply, the star-haired teen brushed past him and into the house. "Nice place you got here. Where's Marik?"

"He's…"

"What the fuck are you doing here, Atemu?" Marik watched them from the top of the stairs, his expression one of shear bemusement.

Taking in his friend's damp hair and exposed middle, Yami frowned. "I could ask you the same question. How are you?"

"I'm fi…"

"He's sick," Bakura interrupted. "He should be in bed."

Yami smiled inwardly. It seemed his instinct hadn't led him astray after all. Touzouko was not the bastard he'd originally had him pegged for. "He's right, Marik. Go lie down."

"Listen! I don't take orders from you or…"

The Egyptian's eyes suddenly grew very wide, and it took Bakura a moment to realize that he was not in fact staring at them but at two figures who had just shown up at their doorstep.

"Is he here?"

"Really Malik, I would have told you! It's just that…"

"IS THAT BASTARD IN HERE?" Malik Ishtar's face was colder than Bakura had ever seen it, rage causing his narrowed eyes to scream violet with even more intensity. "Let me in, Touzouko!"

Latching onto his boyfriend's arm, Ryou tried desperately to grasp his attention. "Wait! Don't rush into things! You need to settle down, think this through for a moment."

Malik didn't even spare his lover a passing glance. Jerking away from the boy's grip he stormed inside. He didn't ask who Yami was, didn't utter a word of greetings to Bakura. He simply glared daggers at the blonde on the stairs.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Get out! GET THE HELL…"

"This isn't your house either, Malik." Marik's words sounded like poison. It was more of a hiss than anything else.

"You asshole! Why did you come back? You don't care about us! You don't care about anyone!"

The older of the two let loose a bitter laugh. "Oh, you're _too kind! _After all, we both know how _undeserving_ I am of such a warm, _heartfelt_ welcome from my estranged brother!"

Malik stumbled backwards, wounded by the venom dripping from his sibling's words. He stared stupidly at Mariku's face. It was amazing how much he had changed in just two years. He looked older, thinner, harder. How had the mischievous, somewhat troublesome boy he had known in his childhood morphed into this? This angry, spiteful, hopelessly unfeeling person who stood before him? Unasked for tears prickled at the corners of Malik's eyes as he gazed upon the stranger who had once been his brother.

"Are you okay?" Not waiting for an answer, Ryou pulled his lover into a fierce hug. Malik fell easily into the embrace, burying his tear sodden cheeks into the comforting warmth of the smaller boy.

Only Bakura was able to catch the subtle shift in Marik's expression as the blonde's brother burst into tears. His eyes, though not exactly softening, became less cold. The tension in his jaw slackened minutely. Uncertainly he made his way down the stairs, leaning more heavily on the banister than was absolutely necessary.

Ryou gasped sharply as Marik cleared the stairs. Now that he was out from behind the banister, all of the Egyptian's battered body was revealed. The undressed wound on his abdomen looked especially painful. The skin where the puce colored bruises gave way to scabs had turned pink and rubbed raw from inflammation. Ryou held Malik a little tighter, as if he could somehow protect him from seeing what someone he used to love had been reduced to.

However the youngest Ishtar was not so easily distracted. He looked up, letting out a soft, indecipherable moan at the sight of his brother's serrated flesh. He didn't know what to do. Didn't he hate Mariku? After all, _Mariku _had left them! _Mariku_ was…Mariku was hurt. Mariku was sick, beaten, too skinny…Mariku was Malik's brother. How could he possibly hate him?

"Brilliant, _fucking brilliant_." Atemu pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. "This is perfect, _exactly_ what I had in mind! You know Bakura, I really don't know how things could get any worse."

Evidently they could. Mariku was at his absolute limit. He was stressed out both mentally and physically. His head hurt. He was hungry and tired. The brother he hadn't seen in two years was crying in the living room of his greatest rival. All Marik could think of was sleep.

"AW FUCK!"

Bakura barely managed to catch the Egyptian as he fell, his body pitching forward as his head lolled obscenely to the side. Ryou and Yami cried out. The microwave beeped. Malik just stood in the middle of the floor and quivered.

'_Congratulations, Ishtar. You fainted.' _

* * *

-TOT (I figured it was about time they met again. I hope you like it!) 


	9. Connections

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 8-Connections**

* * *

"I can't believe this." From where he sat in the Bakura family's living room Malik gazed at his brother, who lay unconscious on the opposite couch. "It's just so…unreal."

Bakura nodded dully. He wondered what Malik would do once he got over the shock. Would he be happy? Curious? Pissed? Perhaps it would be a combination of all three. Then there was the whole business of telling Isis and Rishid. He didn't even want to touch that.

As the white-haired teen became lost in his thoughts, Malik continued talking. "I can't believe she called. So long…it's been so long."

"Ms. Ishizu called you then?" Atemu's sanguine gaze flashed with interest.

The Egyptian nodded. "Yeah, she was looking for him." He pointed across the room to where his brother slept.

Ryou gave his own sibling a sheepish smile. "Sorry Kura. I just couldn't keep a secret, not after…Kura?"

"Hmm?" Bakura jerked slightly as Ryou's words pulled him from his trance. "Oh…it's fine, Ry. I'm not mad."

The younger of the two frowned. _'He sounds so tired.'_ "Kura, maybe you should lie down."

"No, I'm fine." Shaking his head in an attempt to become more alert, Bakura glanced over at Mariku. "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"Hopefully soon." Atemu got up to feel the Egyptian's forehead with his hand. "His fever's gone down, but we really need to get some fluids into him."

Bakura got up to join the shorter boy. "Food too. He hasn't eaten in a while."

A soft grunt from the comatose blonde caused everyone in the room to turn his way. Twisting about on the sofa, Marik's eyes came open with a startling snap. The first things he saw were the faces of both Bakura and Yami staring down at him. "Uhh… what the fuck?"

"Nice to see you too, Ishtar."

Marik growled at the white-haired teen's smirking visage. "Go to hell."

"And you're welcome."

"Touzouko, lay off!"

Atemu's words went unheeded however as the two, more violent adolescents faced off, one grinning while the other attempted to glare daggers through his forehead. Ryou and Malik watched from a distance, both marveling at the not quite sincere animosity passing between them.

"Fine. I'm not going to stand here while you two catfight. Marik, what do you want to eat?"

Said Egyptian glanced over at his star-haired friend. "I'm not…"

"There's some soup in the microwave. It should still be warm." As he said this, Bakura's gaze didn't waver from Marik's face. "Ryou, show him where everything is."

"Right." The younger boy smiled at Atemu. "Come with me."

Malik didn't make a move to follow as the two teens left for the kitchen. Instead he watched as one of his best friends smirked deviously at his estranged brother. He couldn't believe it. After so many years apart, how had Mariku and his mother suddenly been thrust back into their lives? The key was Touzouko Bakura. Where and how had he come to be acquainted with the teen's brother?

"Um, Malik?" Bakura's chestnut tinted eyes were now resting on him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you…uh…need something? That is, can I…"

"How did you guys meet?" Ignoring Bakura's terrifyingly polite behavior, Malik decided to get to the heart of the matter. Even he was startled at the level of coldness in his voice.

"Well…you see…"

"At Club Khonsu, a bar. You probably don't know where it is." Bakura's aversion to the truth both hurt and annoyed Marik. He decided to tell the story himself. "It was back at the beginning of the summer."

"I see." Though he spoke to his brother, Malik's gaze still rested on the paler teen. Noticing this, Bakura gave the splint on his arm an anxious scratch.

Mariku continued with his version of the story. "We got in a fight a few weeks later. That's when I…" He jerked his thumb in the direction of Bakura's broken arm. "That's when that happened. A couple days after that he…he helped me out with something. That's how I ended up here."

"Really?" Malik was clearly unsatisfied with the wilder blonde's retelling. "And how exactly did he help you?"

"That's none of your damn business!" Standing up suddenly, the still towel clad Egyptian swayed a bit before he finally got his footing. "Why are _you_ here, Malik? Tell me! You never gave a shit before!"

"_I_ didn't give a shit?" The other teen also jumped to his feet. "Hell, you're the one who left us!"

"What did you expect me to do? Just let her leave on her own? I was trying to help her, Malik!"

The youth's words could have curdled milk. "I can tell. I mean, she looks _so_ much better! I'll bet she hasn't gotten smashed in _ages_!"

Marik didn't come up with the angry reply Bakura had been counting on. His livid expression suddenly went blank. He shied away from his sibling's angry words and took his seat on the couch. Malik said nothing more. It was as if he knew that he had already won.

"He did a hell of a lot more than you did." The words slipped out before Bakura could control them. The stupid, wounded look that passed over his friend's face was almost painful. "Shit, I…I didn't mean it like that, Malik. Really, I'm…"

"Don't apologize. We all know you're right." Atemu stood in the doorway with nothing but his trademark scowl and a bowl of soup. "You should think about someone besides yourself, Malik. Try viewing it from your mother's perspective."

"Sh-she didn't care about us."

"Bullshit, she was trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"Herself." Marik clenched his fists. "She didn't want you to end up like her, and she didn't want you to meet Anubis."

Silence filled the room. Everyone watched as the two brothers regarded each other with a cold eye. It was as if they were mentally sparring, searching the other for any signs of falsity or lies. Finally Yami stepped forward and placed the soup in front of Mariku.

"Eat this. You'll feel way better."

Marik set his hand on the spoon but didn't pick it up. "She cried for days after we left. Even _he _couldn't make her stop."

Malik swallowed hard. "You said her boyfriend's name was Anubis, didn't you?"

"Yes. Anubis Apophis."

"He didn't…"

"Hurt her?" Mariku sneered. "I thought you didn't care."

Bakura watched as the Egyptian's hand moved almost involuntarily to cover the injury on his abdomen and realized that this conversation wasn't going anywhere. They were both too proud.

Suddenly Ryou's voice could be heard, small yet strangely filling the quiet of the room. "She was crying when she called you, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she…she was." Suddenly Malik looked miserable. Why, if he hated that woman so much, did he feel so incredibly guilty? He glanced at his brother's ravaged stomach and flinched. Who had done that to him? What had he meant when he'd talked about Bakura helping him out? "Marik, tell me the truth. About this Anubis guy, what is he…"

"He hasn't done shit for her. I thought that would be obvious!"

"Tell me…" Malik hesitated as his voice threatened to shatter. "Tell me what I can do."

Mariku wasn't expecting that. His mouth, automatically open to come up with a sarcastic reply, snapped shut. He stared dumbly at his brother, at his flushed cheeks, his tired face, his saddened, violet eyes. "Get her away from him, somewhere he'll never find her. Send her to a hospital, rehab, _anywhere_."

"I can find a place." Yami's eyes seemed even redder than normal, and Marik was reminded that he too hated Anubis with every fiber of his being. "There's a center just outside Domino City. I've heard it has a high recovery rate."

Marik chewed his lower lip thoughtfully "But what about Anubis? We both know he won't stop until he finds her."

"We'll have to catch him in the act."

"What do you mean by that?"

Atemu gave his Egyptian friend a sardonic smile. "Think about it. How do you think he gets all those nice things for his pawn shops?"

Marik's normally clouded eyes flashed briefly. "You mean…"

"Exactly."

* * *

Ishizu Ishtar walked down the street as fast as she could, heading in the direction of Izuna's grocery. After Anubis had beaten her, she'd fallen unconscious, waking hours later with a splitting headache. The first thing she'd done after taking a shower was to go out and find a payphone. Borrowing some change from a passing stranger, the woman had called the only place she thought Mariku might have gone.

Malik had answered. He sounded so much older, so grown up. He wasn't the little boy she had left behind. He was what, fifteen? No, that wasn't right. Malik was sixteen. His birthday had been last December. Ishizu had been so happy to hear his voice that she had actually burst into tears. However the moment had been too short. The moment she had gotten a hold of herself, the moment she had mentioned Mariku, her youngest son had hung up the phone.

So now Ishizu did the only thing she could. She was going to check every place her son could have gone. Izuna's, Club Khonsu, Hellriders'. She'd been to the bar, no luck. And now, on the way to the convenience store, she wondered if maybe it would be better if she didn't find him. After all, if he hadn't been tied down by her, Marik might still be going to school. He could have a normal life. The life of every other teenage boy. But no, she needed him. As selfish as it was, Ishizu couldn't lose him.

"Hello?" Entering the store, she gave the elderly woman behind the counter a nervous smile. "Is…is Mariku working today?"

Though they had never met, Izuna immediately realized that this must be her employee's mother. They looked so similar. "No, I'm afraid not. He came in sick the other day, so I sent him home. Isn't he there?"

"N-no." Ishizu's voice cracked. She could already feel a fresh wave of tears coming on. "He's not…"

"I see." Izuna frowned. She'd always thought she would greatly dislike Mariku's mother. After all, what kind of parent allowed their child to drop out of school at the age of fifteen to work two full time jobs? But as the old woman took in Ishizu's bruised, sorrowful features her heart began to open. Whatever her faults, it was clear that she did at least love her son.

"Do you know where he might be?"

Izuna smiled and offered her a tissue. "I would try Hellriders'. If he's not there then call this number." She handed the distraught woman a slip of paper. "His name is Yami Atemu. He's a friend of Marik's."

"Th-thank you." Bowing awkwardly, Ishizu hurried from the store. Turning right on Oleander, she headed towards Akuma's bike shop. She'd met the owner once before and was admittedly frightened of him. However, it seemed the day had presented her with a single lucky break. A red haired boy with riding goggles was outside working on a rather expensive looking motorcycle. Perhaps he would know something about Marik.

"Excuse me?"

Varon glanced up to find himself face to face with a disheveled but still attractive woman. "Can I help you?"

Ishizu flushed. "Yes. I'm looking for my son, Marik. Is he working today?"

The teen gave her a strange look. "N-no, he's not. He doesn't work here anymore, actually."

"He doesn't?"

Varon shook his head. "About a week and a half ago he came in late. Akuma wasn't too happy about that. I'm…I'm sorry to say but Marik was let go."

"I see." A devastating feeling swept Ishizu's heart. He hadn't told her. He hadn't…wait. Yes, he _had_ told her. The newly recalled memory was incredibly fuzzy, but she did remember it. Mariku had told her and she had…she had slapped him, hard in the face, over and over until finally he'd gotten fed up and left. She'd been too tweaked to even bother asking why.

Varon gave the woman a strange look as she turned sharply and began walking away. Why was she crying?

* * *

"So you really think he's been stealing to get the stuff that's in his stores?"

Atemu nodded, unperturbed by Ryou's incredulous expression. "I'm sure of it. I know for a fact that he doesn't keep records of all his business transactions. If he did there'd be way more paperwork."

"Wait a minute!" Bakura gave the star haired teen a distrustful glare. "How do you know all this?"

Atemu looked strangely unsure of himself. He looked to Mariku for advice.

"You might as well tell them." The blonde, now dressed in some of Bakura's clothing, gave his friend a reassuring nod. "There's no use in hiding it really."

Yami sighed. "Right. Anubis and I go way back. You see, my mother had my brother, Yugi, and I when she was very young. Eighteen or nineteen, I can't remember. Anyway Anubis…well…Anubis is my father."

"WHAT?"

The expressions on the faces of Malik and both the Bakuras were so priceless that even Atemu smiled a little before continuing with his story. "This was back when we lived in Tokyo. They weren't married, but he was supposed to pay child support. The bastard skipped town though. When my mother died we moved here to live with my grandfather." The teen gave a short, humorless laugh. "Imagine my surprise when I saw a hawk shop called Apophis Buy and Sell on just about every corner."

Malik shook his head, astounded. "This is fucked up on so many levels."

"For once I agree with you." Marik cracked his knuckles distractedly. "You should probably tell them how we met, Yami."

The teen nodded. "I went looking for him. Asking around at clubs, bars, places like that. Anyway, I finally stumbled into Club Khonsu. Mariku overheard me talking. We got in a fight. Been friends ever since."

"How charming." Rolling his eyes sarcastically, Bakura got up to take away Marik's empty soup bowl. "That still doesn't explain how we're going to prove that Anubis has been stealing stuff for his stores."

"Simple." The less predictable of the Ishtar brothers flashed Touzouko his crazy, seductive smirk. "We catch him in the act."

A sudden memory flashed before the paler teen's eyes. His mother, lying dead, her face left in pieces by a .38 fired at point blank. The people who had killed her had taken everything. Silverware, jewelry, the stereo. Who killed someone over a fucking stereo?

"Hey! You okay?" Mariku had followed him into the kitchen. His normally apathetic features were laced with concern.

"Yeah, fine." Bakura hadn't realized it, but he must have let his emotions slip onto his face. He set the bowl in the sink. "You feeling any better?"

The blonde nodded then, quite suddenly, grabbed his hand. "I…I guess I should probably thank you, huh?"

For a moment Marik stood there, unsure of himself. His normal way of dealing with people wouldn't work on Bakura. He couldn't just brush him off as another fling, someone who was helping him only to get something in return, but he couldn't think of him as he thought of Yami either. Yami was…more of a brother than anything. He was the kind of person who stuck by you no matter what. Bakura was different. If Mariku screwed this up, he _would_ leave him.

For the first time Mariku realized what really made the white haired boy so perfect for him. It wasn't that he could match him in temper. It wasn't even the fact that they were sexually attracted. What made Bakura truly amazing was the fact that he was the only person Marik was willing to work for. No matter how much they fought, he refused to lose him.

"Marik, if you're just going to stand here staring at me I might as well…"

Taking advantage of his open mouth, the Egyptian pulled Touzouko into a deep, mind blowing kiss. He tangled his hands in the other's hair, assuring that he would not escape.

"What the…"

"Shh…don't talk."

Bakura moaned and kissed back, wanting to taste Marik every bit as much as he was being tasted. His good arm immediately began making its way under the hem of the blonde's pants, massaging the impressive bulge he found there.

"We should really finish this upstairs."

From behind a shock of golden bangs, Mariku frowned. "We would have to walk out in front of everyone."

"Don't be stupid. We'll use the stairs outside by the deck. It leads up to the balcony."

"You guys have a staircase outside _and_ a balcony?"

"You want to finish this or not?" Bakura grinned wolfishly and began dragging Marik through another doorway. "Come on!"

"Rich bastard."

"Welfare cunt."

Ryou, Malik, and Atemu listened as the two scrambled upstairs.

The youngest of the Bakura brothers sighed. "Something tells me they won't be back for quite a while."

Atemu rolled his eyes. "Doesn't seem likely, does it?"

Malik simply frowned. He wouldn't admit it, but in a weird way he was sort of jealous. It wasn't that he was sexually attracted to Bakura. No, not when he had Ryou. But Bakura was still his friend, one of his best friends, and in a way it felt as if Mariku was stealing him.

"I guess I could order a pizza or something. You and Yami are welcome to stay over if you'd like."

Envious thoughts momentarily forgotten, Malik smiled at his boyfriend. "Thanks Ryou, that'd be great. I…I'm not sure I'm up to breaking the news to Isis and Rishid right now."

"That's understandable." Atemu got up and brushed some imagined dust from his pants. "I also appreciate the offer, Ryou, but I really must be going. I left Yugi alone at the Game Shop, and he's probably getting a little bit more than annoyed."

"Alright." The white haired angel smiled. "Well call if you need anything."

"Sure thing. See you around." And with a grin of his own, Yami was out the door. He left Ryou and Malik alone in the living room, blushing at the racket coming from upstairs.

"I wish they wouldn't be so…"

"Loud?"

"Exactly." Cuddling up to his lover, Ryou buried his face into Malik's chest. "Are you alright? I mean, it must be quite a shock."

"Yeah." The blonde ran his fingers gently through the smaller boy's hair. "It is, but I think I'm okay with it. I mean, things could be so much worse. Do you…do you think Anubis did that to his…"

Ryou flinched. Bakura had told him what he'd known, which wasn't a hell of a lot, but he'd gathered that Anubis was probably the one who had hurt Marik. "I think so, yes."

"I see." With a shuddering sigh, Malik pulled his boyfriend a bit closer. "I really hope we get this sorted out."

Ryou stroked the tanner boy's face and kissed him softly on the cheek. "We will. I'm sure of it."

Upstairs the situation wasn't quite as warm and fuzzy. Mariku was reclining on the guest bed, trying not to scream too loud as Touzouko drove into him. The feeling was so strong that he felt he might pass out from the sheer sensation of having the boy's cock that far up his ass. To his credit, the white haired boy was trying to be gentle. He knew Marik was sick, that this was the last thing he needed if he wanted to heal, but damn. He was just so fucking hot.

Carefully elevating his hips to keep pressure off the blonde's midsection, Bakura thrust in again, earning a sharp cry from his partner.

"You okay, baby?"

"…mmm…harder…" Marik smirked deliciously. He'd forgotten just how good at this Bakura was. Besides, it was worth all the pain in the world to know the person he wanted to be with was right there.

"We…we shouldn't be…" Bakura screamed as the other's passage clamped down around him. He was so tight, so damn tight! He watched as the Egyptian's eyes drifted shut, a momentary peace coming over him before he came so hard his head accidentally smacked the headboard.

Only after he'd ejaculated did the pain begin to register in Marik's mind. He tried to hide it, but Bakura noticed and pulled out to finish the job himself.

"N-no." Pushing the paler boy's hand away, Mariku knelt down between his legs. In his own bizarre sort of way he had to prove that he needed Touzouko, needed him more than he'd ever thought he needed anything before.

Bakura groaned huskily as Marik sucked him off. The blonde's lack of a gag reflex was truly impressive. Forcing down the urge to ram into his throat, the teen watched the other as his head bobbed up and down, sandy blonde hair tickling the inside of his thighs. When he finally came it was deep inside the Egyptian's throat. Marik swallowed as if he'd tasted nothing better.

Pulling out of his friend's mouth, Bakura frowned. Mariku didn't look so good. He was smiling, but his skin was almost as chalky as it had been last night. "We shouldn't have…that was so stupid."

"Doesn't matter." Pulling the worried teen against his chest, Marik collapsed into the inviting warmth of the blankets beneath him.

Bakura resisted. "I'll go get you some ibuprofen or something. You're going to be really sore."

"No. Stay here."

The white haired boy was actually alarmed by the childish insistence in Mariku's voice. What? Did he think Bakura would just up and leave him? Well…he had done that before, but things were different now.

"Don't go."

"But I…"

"Don't."

Sighing in defeat, Bakura allowed himself to be pulled beneath the covers. "Fine." He wrapped his good arm tightly around the other's quivering shoulders. At least he could keep him warm. Mariku would finally fall asleep in the embrace of someone who cared about him.

Downstairs another couple lay sleeping on the couch. Their limbs were entwined, heads nestled cutely against each other. Ryou stirred briefly to find a more comfortable position on his lover's chest. Malik in turn grunted softly, his face breaking into a sleepy grin.

For the first time in quite a while it looked as if things might actually work out for the best.

* * *

Yami drove home in silence, thinking about Mariku. He hoped they could pull off bringing down Anubis. He knew for a fact that his so called father wasn't just cruel. He was also smart. At the first hint of anything suspicious he would take action.

The teen was shocked from his worries as his cell phone began to ring. Hurriedly, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Yami Atemu?"

"Yes." Brows furrowing, he pulled over to the side of the road. "Who is this?"

"This is Ishizu Ishtar. I'm calling about my son, Marik."

* * *

**-TOT** (Originally I wasn't planning on adding a lemon (hope it wasn't too explicit), but I really couldn't resist. It wasn't too abrupt, was it? I also hope the whole thing about Anubis being Yami's father wasn't too crazy. I've been planning that part for quite awhile now, but I'm afraid it came as a bit of a shock. Oh well, more will be explained in upcoming chapters. Anyway, please tell me what you think. I can't thank you enough for all the reviews. They mean the world to me.) 


	10. Shattered People

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 9-Shattered People**

* * *

Marik woke to the scent of sex and Bakura's steady breathing fanning the expanse of his neck. It felt so fucking good. What if this was a dream? He didn't want it to end, didn't want to wake up. No, it couldn't. He would keep on sleeping if only this moment would last forever.

"Ishtar, you awake?"

"Huh?" The blonde felt a break in the rhythm of Bakura's breathing as he let loose a rasping laugh. It tickled playfully at his hairline, and Marik leaned back so that the paler boy's lips pressed lightly against his neck. His normally tough attitude had been softened by a veil of warm exhaustion, and all the Egyptian could do was moan as weightless kisses traced the length of his throat and collarbone.

"You look nice." Bakura was above him now, hands resting on either side of his untidy mass of hair. His expression was unusually thoughtful. "Your face doesn't look so hard when you're smiling."

"My wha…" In the blink of an eye Mariku's smile was replaced by a colder, more guarded expression. He hadn't even realized how stupid he must have looked, grinning like some little kid.

Bakura only chuckled. "And when you're blushing you almost look cute."

"I do _not_ blush."

The white haired teen laughed harder and stole a kiss from his partner's parted lips. "Whatever." Getting up to pull the curtains closed against the offending rays of daylight, he turned to look at Marik. The Egyptian was sprawled out luxuriously on the bed, the angles of his bronzed body softened to curves by the muted sunlight still escaping through the blinds. Even his eyes seemed strangely bright in the morning stillness.

"I wonder how long we slept." Mariku rolled over to glance at the clock but winced as every muscle in his body began to protest. He tried gingerly to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, only to collapse back onto the mattress as agony ripped through his lower torso.

Bakura frowned and returned to the side of the struggling teen. "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk!" Pulling himself into a sitting position, Marik attempted to get up. When he was immobile it was fine, but each time the Egyptian moved it was as if every joint, every tendon, ligament, and bone in his body was screaming in pain.

"Don't move." Chewing his lip in agitation, the paler of the two made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing a hot water bottle and some Tylenol he turned to go, but instead found himself face to face with his little brother.

"Hey Ry. How are you?"

"Touzouko, you are so STUPID!" Eyeing the items in his sibling's hands, Ryou's expression became somewhat softer. "Can he even get out of bed?"

"I…don't think so."

The younger teen sighed. "I'll make him some coffee and toast. _You_ just concentrate on keeping your libido in check!"

"Oh for God's sake! It's not like I raped him!"

Ryou responded by giving him a venomous glare, which sent Bakura upstairs in quite a hurry. He could be heard muttering the whole way, something about children and their ludicrous insinuations. Shaking his head tiredly, Ryou started making breakfast.

Up in the guest bedroom Bakura couldn't help gaping at his blonde lover. Like a wicked Adonis Marik lay beneath the sheets, his limbs tangled seductively in folds of linen and cotton stuffed pillows. He gazed at Bakura with his infuriatingly deadpan eyes, oblivious to the beauty he had so unwittingly created.

"Is there something on my face?"

The white haired teen snapped out of his trance. "Huh?"

"You've been staring at me for like ten fucking minutes."

Snorting, Bakura all but threw the water bottle at his blonde companion. For being so damn hot, Marik sure did know how to destroy a moment. "Ryou's bringing up food in a minute, and you'll eat it if you know what's good for you!"

"Some threat." Yawning, the Egyptian rolled over only to wince as his body screeched in disapproval. This wasn't good. What happened if he had to take a piss? The thought called up an unpleasant memory.

_The day after Anubis had beat him, the morning he lost his job at Hellriders', trying to get up, failing, crawling to the toilet on his knees like a dog, vomit reeking of beer and cheap vodka. He wanted a shower. He wanted a shower so bad it hurt, but damn, the pain in his gut, reluctant of removing Atemu's careful bandage job, afraid to expose his sickness to the cruel barrage of running water. Instead, lying crumpled on the bathroom floor, seeing nothing but dirty tiles and his own throw up. Like a bad TV movie, a docudrama about binge drinking or ODing on crack cocaine. He hadn't wished he could cry so badly in his entire life._

"Hello? Ishtar, are you even listening to me?"

"Wha…oh, yeah sorry. What was that?"

Bakura frowned. Why did Mariku suddenly look so shook up? "I was just about to tell you that we need to sort things out with Rishid and your sister. Malik can't be the only one who knows."

The Egyptian suddenly felt very tired. "My mother too."

"That would probably be a good idea…hey, you alright?" Bakura sat down beside him on the bed. The look in his eyes was one of poorly disguised concern. It was true. He worried deeply for Marik Ishtar. It was an unusual feeling. The white haired teen was almost as unaccustomed to troubling himself about others as Mariku was to being troubled about. It made for some awkward silences.

"So…are you?"

"Am I what?" Marik feigned ignorance, knowing full well that Bakura would not be fooled. The past few days had been so unnerving. He wasn't used to this, to being in a nice house with civilized people who wanted to know how he felt, if he was hungry, whether or not they should contact his mother. It was bizarre. He felt like a child again.

"Where do you want me to put this?"

Both teens looked up and started laughing as Ryou attempted to walk through the door. The boy was inhibited by the rather large, food laden tray in his arms. It was a mass of toast, cereal, and assorted beverages. Peering over the pitcher of orange juice, he scowled in at their amused faces. "The least you could do is help me a little! After all, I did go out of my way to make you breakfast!"

Still grinning, Bakura went over and relieved his brother of the heavy tray. "Don't know what we'd do without you, Ry."

"Starve most likely." Malik stood in the doorway, lips pulled into a faint smirk. Despite the rumpled state of his slept in clothing, the teen looked almost natural. That confidant gleam had returned to his eyes, as had the vigor in his voice. His demeanor didn't even falter when he met his brother's gaze. It was either the work of a moral epiphany or that of a tremendously convincing façade.

"Hey, _I_ can cook! Even Isis would admit that!" Marik's playful indignity was as funny as it was startling. Flashing a grin that for once was neither violent nor seductive he continued to tease his shell shocked sibling. "You're the one who can't even get microwave popcorn right!"

For a moment Malik didn't respond. Brothers taunting each other. It was so normal, something brothers just did. But then nothing about his family life had ever been normal. Well not for a very long while anyway. Still, things could be different. Malik understood this now. Mariku was an asshole, but he wasn't the horrible, unfeeling monster the younger had for so long believed him to be. They could be a family again. It would just take a lot of work.

"That was only one time! I punched an extra zero on the microwave!" Malik pouted like he knew a little brother should. Yes, he would make this happen. He had to.

From where he stood at his own sibling's side, Bakura watched the two blondes interact. He was happy that they were on better terms this morning, but he still sensed a forced quality in their words, smiles that were not quite genuine. This was how shattered people addressed each other, pretending nothing had ever actually gone wrong. The white haired teen knew this act too well.

It had been him for almost a year after his mother and Amane had died. It had been his broken smile, his fearfully cheerful voice, his emotions that were too perfect to be real. Then Bakura had realized something. It didn't matter how hard he tried to convince himself that everything was fine. At the end of the day they would still be dead. He couldn't change the past, but things were different for Malik and Mariku. They were alive. They had a future, a choice. If they played their cards right, who knew what might happen.

* * *

Ishizu Ishtar didn't know where she was. Well, she knew she was in a room, a dirty, molding room with too little furniture and boarded up windows. She was lying on a mattress in the corner, her body half hidden by a mass of tangled hair. Her bloodshot eyes stared, unseeing, at the shadowy figures spread out around her. No matter what kind of life a person led during the day, when on drugs everyone was equal. It didn't matter how rich you were, where you lived, what your children thought of you. In this place they were all the same, anonymous silhouettes of an even darker world.

Sitting up, Ishizu tried to remember what had happened. _Looking for Marik_. That's right, she'd been searching for her son. He wasn't anywhere, but she had gotten a lead in the form of Yami Atemu. He had told her where the teen was, how to get there. He had even offered to come pick her up, but Ishizu had decided to walk, needing time to think.

She should have accepted the ride. Halfway to the Bakura household, the woman had met one of her dealers. His offer was impossible to pass up. She was exhausted and sore from Anubis' beating. Just one hit. She would take one hit to calm her nerves then go to her son. Fuck. Just one hit. It was always just one hit.

'_Just leave him. Ungrateful boy! He abandoned you, left his own mother to worry herself sick!'_ Ishizu tried to block this out. She knew in her heart it wasn't true, but at the moment her brain was in the grips of a far greater power. _'Worthless…he's worthless, so lazy, overslept and lost his job. Then he just left, doesn't care that his mother will be kicked to the streets!' _

The woman sobbed. It was true! Oh God, it was true! Digging through her pockets, she pulled out the crumpled piece of paper on which she'd scribbled the Bakuras' address. Ishizu glared at it a moment and, in a bizarre moment of clarity, wondered if it was the same Bakura as her good friend the archaeologist. _'No, of course not. Marik doesn't know about him.' _

* * *

Yami sat in his grandfather's game shop, drumming his fingers dully on the counter. He paid no attention to the customers wandering the store. Rather, his thoughts were focused on Marik Ishtar and whether or not Ms. Ishizu had managed to make it to Bakura's house. He had felt nervous leaving her crying at the payphone, but the woman had insisted. _'She's every bit as headstrong as Marik.'_

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Atemu glanced over at Yugi, his younger cousin. "Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

The crimson eyed teen sighed. "You ever get the feeling that you just made a big mistake?"

"I don't understand." Yugi frowned softly. "What kind of mistake?"

"Oh, I don't…never mind. It's nothing, Yug. Really."

The smaller boy nodded thoughtfully. "You know, sometimes short term mistakes can lead to long term benefits. Like when you get in a car wreck, but learn to be more careful so that you don't get in one that's even more serious later on. Maybe it's that kind of mistake."

Atemu smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. "Yeah, maybe."

* * *

"Where did you learn to play?" Marik, up and able thanks to about five Tylenol and a hot bath, was watching Bakura as his fingers skimmed the keys of the piano. He played a soft, almost lonely song that stirred inside the Egyptian something he didn't quite recognize.

Bakura turned to face the other, nimble hands only slightly handicapped by the splint on his arm. "My mother taught me."

"Oh." Marik didn't really know what to say to this. Thanks to Ryou, he knew why Bakura's dad wasn't home, but he'd never asked about his mother. "Where is she now?"

"Dead." Touzouko stopped playing. "She died when I was really young."

"I…I see. Sorry…"

"Don't be." The white haired teen gazed at his now motionless fingers. "It was a long time ago."

The pictures on the mantle. The inexplicable sadness of this place. Mariku should have known. "How'd it happen?"

"Like I said," Bakura all but snarled. "It was a long time ago. So just drop it."

This was obviously a subject that Bakura didn't like to broach. Lapsing into silence, the blonde slipped a hand beneath his borrowed tee shirt and scratched absently at the gauze. If the woman in all the photos was Touzouko and Ryou's mother, then who was that little girl? Surely she wasn't dead also.

"What are you doing?" Throwing down his hands so that they caused the piano keys to clank indignantly, Bakura gaped at his dark skinned counterpart. Mariku had picked up one of the many picture frames from the coffee table and stood, studying it intently.

"Who's the kid?" It was a picture of the little girl, her moon kissed hair tied back prettily in a bow.

"You asshole, put it back!"

"Who is she?" More than slightly annoyed, Marik gave Bakura a piercing glare. "I'm only curious!"

"You…she's my sister."

"Name?"

"…Amane."

"Where does she live?"

Bakura flinched, visibly. "She's dead too."

Mentally kicking himself in the face, Mariku put the photo back in its place. He kept his mouth shut, knowing he'd already caused enough damage. He understood what it was to lose a loved one. It hurt no matter how tough you thought you were.

"She was only six." The white haired teen picked up the dust covered frame and stared at it, completely entranced. "She was just starting kindergarten."

His friend's strangely reflective mood set Marik on edge. Carefully, as if afraid to startle him, the Egyptian laid an uncertain palm on his shoulder. "Come on, Touzouko. Snap out of it."

Still looking at the picture, Bakura's words came across as more of a muffled whisper. "Why is it that some assholes live forever but the best people always die?"

"Because life's a bitch. She likes the assholes better."

The paler boy laughed, but his eyes were still very far away. "The one who killed them is still out there. Do you think he ever thinks about it, about how he ended two people's lives for some jewelry and a fucking stereo?"

Marik though of Anubis, his cruel smile, the way he laughed when he told Ishizu about his latest mugging. "I doubt it."

"Yeah." Finally, Bakura returned the picture to its spot on the coffee table. "Too bad."

Still unnerved by the white haired teen's bizarre mood, Marik sought for a change in subject. "Where'd Malik and your brother go again?"

"Grocery store. But they probably got sidetracked." Bakura leaned into the blonde's chest, choking down his memories in favor of a more favorable present. "I think you know what I mean."

"Don't worry. I get the picture." The ghost of a relieved sigh passed his lips as the Egyptian pulled the paler boy into a light embrace.

Bakura slipped his hand into the other's pants and flashed him a toothy grin. "What do you say we follow suit?"

"Mmm, I think that sounds…aw shit!"

Their moment was interrupted by sporadic pounding on the front door. "Just a sec..._stupid, inconsiderate bastard_. We DO have a doorbell…_God damned idiot._" Grumbling under his breath, Bakura stomped towards the door. The person on the other side didn't let up, but actually started knocking harder. "Didn't you here me? I'M FUCKING COMING!" He flung open the door, fully intent on ripping the visitor a new one, but instead almost fell over in surprise. In front of him stood a woman who looked exactly like Marik.

"Where is he?" Nails practically clawing at his chest, Ms. Ishtar tried to peer into the apartment. "Where's Mariku?"

Bakura was sorely tempted to lie. He knew it was stupid, wanting to shelter Marik from his own mother, but her gaunt face, her dirty hair and smoldering, bloodshot eyes…it tempted him to slam the door in her face. The Egyptian didn't deserve this. No one did.

"Is he here?" The woman's voice was almost panicked. "Let me in!"

What was the use of postponing the inevitable? Reluctantly Bakura stepped aside, and Ishizu Ishtar stumbled into his living room.

"Marik? Marik!" Locating her son near the piano she stumbled forward. "Marik, where have you been? I've been…I've been…" A strange look came over Ishizu, and she suddenly appeared very cold.

Trying his best to hide his shock, the blonde approached his mother. "Mom! I can't believe…I'm sorry."

"Your sorry?" The feverish light in the woman's eyes was growing brighter by the second. _"Your_ sorry!" She burst into tears and slapped him hard across the face. "YOU WERE NEVER GOOD FOR ANYTHING!"

Bakura watched helplessly as Mariku was struck again and again until the side of his face turned purple from abuse. Yet he didn't fight back. He just stood there, expression carefully blank. Marik Ishtar, one of the most bad tempered and dangerous punks in all of Domino City, refused to raise a hand against his mother.

"You're so _stupid_! Stupid stupidSTUPID boy!" Ishizu went to strike again, but instead her arm fell limp, and she collapsed against her son's chest. "Why…" she whispered between wracking sobs. "Why do you…do this…so stupid…to waste your life on someone like me…"

The blonde didn't reply, but held his mother's drug-ravaged body closer to his chest. It was his fault. His selfishness had caused this. She only went off the deep end when_ he _fucked up, when _he_ forgot himself and where his true loyalties should lie. Tomorrow Marik would leave Bakura and go back home where he belonged. It didn't matter how badly he wanted to stay.

Still at a loss for what to do, the paler teen continued to gape at the two Egyptians. He could see it in his eyes. Marik would do anything for that bitch. Absolutely anything! He would go back to that hole of an apartment and all the demons he had left behind. For the first time Bakura found himself admitting that he didn't want the blonde to leave. It wasn't just about helping him. He enjoyed the other's presence. He craved it, and no tweaked out excuse for a mother would take that away from him. "Ishtar, there is no way in hell you can possibly…Ishtar?"

Marik wasn't looking at him but, as he had on the first morning, was staring with a mixture of horror and shock at the open front door. Dread rising in his gut, Bakura turned around.

Malik stood in the doorway. His eyes, if possible, were even wider than when he'd been reunited with Mariku. He had seen the whole thing, his brother's face, his mother's helplessly bitter tears. She was a shadow of herself. The ghost of a ghost. Her skeletal body was as substantial as the silhouette of a specter.

"Malik?" Pulling away from her other son, Ishizu reached for him with shaking arms. "Malik…"

A look of disgust painted on his face, the younger blonde backed away from her reaching hands. It didn't matter that this was the first time he'd seen her in years. It didn't even matter that she was crying. All Malik could see was his mother striking Mariku over and over again.

"Don't, Malik. Please…"

"Save it." He knew his words were hurting her, but the teen didn't care. "What were you expecting? For me to welcome you with open arms? You of all people should know that life doesn't work that way!"

As if these words actually had a physical effect, Ishizu stumbled backwards. The accusation in Malik's gaze shamed her beyond the point of justification. It was true. Why should he forgive her? She had done nothing worthy of his love. Turning around, she gave her eldest son a final glance before brushing past Bakura and Malik out into the street.

"Who was that?" The weight of groceries slowing him down, Ryou had missed the majority of the conflict. "Who was that woman running down the street?"

Silence was his only reply. For a long, unfathomable moment they stood there, four people lost in four separate worlds. Then Mariku broke from his reverie and punched Malik so hard in the face they could hear the tendons in his jaw popping

Ryou gasped in surprise. "Malik!"

"And you say I'm the bastard?" Marik laughed darkly in a way that only he had mastered and began striding towards the door. Bakura tried to stop him.

"Ishtar, wait!" He grasped the blonde's arm tightly. "Think about it. We can help her, but we have to take care of Anubis first. Once he's out of the picture your mother will be free for good."

For a moment uncertainty could be seen flickering across the Egyptian's face. Then his features became resolute, and he laid an almost gentle palm over Bakura's own. "Do me a favor. No matter what happens, I want you to get that guy. Make sure he pays for everything he did to her."

"No! Marik, hold on!"

"See you round, Touzouko." The blonde left without looking back. He was as he had always been, cold, strong, without weakness. As much as he liked the Bakuras, he understood that theirs' was a world in which he wasn't meant to be. Mariku had been born tough. His life was never meant to be easy. Besides, even if it were, his mother needed him. He couldn't let her brave the darker side of society all alone.

Bakura watched him go, feeling as if a part of himself was slowly being shattered. Was this what it had been like for Marik when he'd left him that first night at the club? It just wasn't fair, how fate could tear things apart like this so easily.

"Where is he going?" Still confused by the whole situation, Ryou wrapped his arms protectively around his dazed boyfriend's torso. "What's going on?"

Shaking his head, the elder of the two brothers slammed the door and gave it a good kick. "That asshole! He better not do anything stupid!"

* * *

Anubis sat alone in Ishizu's apartment, drinking a beer as he idly watched TV. He'd come back about forty-five minutes ago to find that the woman, last seen unconscious on the floor, had gone out. It was a pity. One of his men had botched an important job, and the man felt he could use a good fuck.

"Oh well." Getting up, he stretched like a cat and wandered into the bedroom. Maybe, at least, he could find something to sell in one of his stores. Not that the Ishtar apartment had many nice things. Most of it was just garbage.

"What's this?" Smirking, Anubis extracted a small, cardboard jewelry box from the back of Ishizu's underwear drawer. Inside was a gold necklace with what looked like a small ruby pendant hanging from its chain. How could he have forgotten? It had been years ago, but he had given it to her as a present when she finally decided to move out of her old home. She had probably forgotten about it by now, and Anubis had never been one to pass up a good opportunity when it presented itself.

Pocketing the necklace, the man exited the dismal apartment. As he walked towards his Escalade, he remembered the night he had stolen the thing. They had been misinformed, and the job had nearly ended in disaster. Still, Anubis mused, this was a nice piece of jewelry. He would make at least three hundred off of it. Maybe more.

* * *

-TOT (Hmm…this chapter was a little shorter than usual. Still, I hope you liked it. Either way, there's much more chaos to come. I'll update as soon as I can. Oh, and thank you for the reviews. They're very helpful.) 


	11. Weakness

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 10-Weakness**

* * *

Gaijin Bakura returned a week after Marik had left. The first few days were always the times when the family was most at peace. Though he had been thrust back into the worries of civilization the man could still feel the sand beneath his fingernails, hear the desert wind dancing circles across the cloudless sky. It was as if the truest part of his soul lived not with his sons in that sorrow worn house, but out at the temple ruins where the memories were brighter.

"Hey Touzouko! It's almost eleven! Get out of bed!" The man frowned. His son had been acting very peculiar since his arrival. He wasn't grouchy or rebellious, just…tired. Bakura would sleep till noon, mope around the house all day, then go back to bed. It certainly was a change from his usual, restless self.

"Dad, I don't think he's coming." Ryou looked up from where he sat reading in the living room.

The elder Bakura ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Why's he acting like this? Do you think he's still mad about what I…about our fight?"

"Doubtful."

The brothers hadn't quite figured out how to tell their father about the whole incident with Marik. However this wasn't surprising. Every time Ryou brought up the wild haired Egyptian, Bakura would change the subject or simply ignore him. It was because he was frustrated. He had been hurt when Mariku had chosen to move back with his mother, hurt and at a loss of how to help him. He was used to neither uncertainty nor rejection.

"Should I…uh…go up and talk to him?"

Ryou stood. "I'll do it. He'll probably come down if I bother him enough."

"Alright. Hey Ryou?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I…never mind. Just see if he'll come down."

Ryou offered his father a small smile before mounting the stairs to his brother's bedroom. Gaijin Bakura was trying. You had to give him props for that.

"Kura?" He knocked lightly before opening the other's door. "Kura, you awake?"

Touzouko lay sprawled out on his bed, tangled in a mass of sheets and unkempt hair. He didn't stir as Ryou entered but followed his movements with a hazy eye.

"What do you want?" His voice was slightly muffled by the pillow where he'd mashed his face. "If _he_ sent you up here you can tell him that I'm not coming down."

"Oh, come on! You're acting like you're five!"

"Go to hell."

"Seriously, Touzouko. Avoiding Dad won't make him any less a part of your life, and if you think sulking in bed all day will get Marik back then you're just plain stupid!"

Ryou expected him to come up with another grouchy reply, but instead his brother sat up and looked at him. "I-I know that. It's just…I promised him before he left that I would get Anubis, but I don't see how that's possible. I mean, how do you prove a guy's a criminal if all the shit he stole has been sold to other people?"

The smaller teen sighed. "I'm not really sure. Yami said something about going over his transaction documents."

"And just how do we _obtain_ those documents?"

"Well, Yami's seen them. Maybe he's on good terms with someone who works for Anubis." The gears in Ryou's mind turned at an alarming rate. "We could even make rounds at all his pawn shops. There are at least five in Domino City alone."

Bakura got out of bed and for a moment stood, staring out his window. "Ryou, what do you think he's doing right now?"

"Who, Anubis?"

"Mariku."

Ryou sighed. "I don't know…but I'm sure he's alright! I mean, he's always been able to stand on his own before."

"…yeah, that's true I guess."

* * *

Marik coughed as the scent of dirt and molding newspapers greeted him. He was in the basement of Bargain Bookstore, the location of his new part time job. They sold not only secondhand books, but antiques and used CDs as well. The Egyptian was ecstatic that he had managed to find another job so quickly. He liked working for Izuna, but the salary wasn't great and his absence had put them way behind in paying their bills. Already the hot water in their apartment had been turned off, and electricity wouldn't be too far behind. Still, Marik was confident he could pull things back together. He had two jobs again, was taking as many hours as he could, and now spent way less on beer. Things would work out.

The blonde lifted the first pile of newspapers and began lugging them upstairs. There had to be hundreds of them, gazettes, magazines, flyers, everything imaginable. Some were over thirty years old. He had been ordered to throw them all away, three decades of Domino City history.

Depositing his load in a nearby dumpster, Mariku winced as a sharp pain shot through his lower torso. The wound Anubis had created was healing, but from time to time it would flare up to remind him. The Egyptian's thoughts went briefly to that horrible man, then his mother before finally settling on Bakura.

What was the white-haired boy doing now? He mused, dragging a new stack of papers up the steps. His father had probably returned. That, and school would begin again in a few weeks. Touzouko, Ryou, and Malik would all be preparing for that. Thinking of his brother caused Marik to wish he'd spent some time with his family while at the Bakura household. Had Malik even told Ishizu about him? No, that wasn't likely. Either way, the blonde's chance of reconnecting with the rest of his family was blown. He was back to the same old routine.

By the eighth armload, Marik stopped for a breather. Leaning against the slightly moist wall of the dirt-floored basement, he leafed lazily through some of the old newspapers. There wasn't much of interest, just a few articles about Parks funding and stock numbers that were ten years out of date. Then he came across something that was truly shocking.

It was a picture of Ryou and Bakura's mother. Front page, dated seven years ago. The caption above read _'MOTHER AND CHILD MURDERED IN BOTCHED BURGLARY ATTEMPT_'. Unfolding the yellowed manuscript, the Egyptian began to read.

'_At 10:30 last night the home belonging to Mr. Gaijin Bakura and his wife, Yumiko, was broken into by 3 to 5 as of yet unidentified vandals. Police say that Mr. Bakura and their youngest son were at the grocery when the attack occurred. Mrs. Bakura was shot in the living room, believed to be in an attempt to keep the burglars from getting to the upper level of the house. Her six year old daughter was found, also shot, at the top of the stairs._

_The sole survivor of the home's occupants was Mr. and Mrs. Bakuras' eldest son, found hiding in the closet of the master bedroom. Reports say that he is currently at Saint Osiris' Hospital, unharmed but with in a great deal of shock. His physician could not be reached for comment. It is believed…'_

The story was continued on _A6,_ but Marik didn't have to read any further. Everything fit. The Bakura break in was just one of a slew of planned robberies that had taken place over the past few years in Domino. The blonde didn't have proof, but he knew who had pulled the trigger. He knew with the conviction of someone who has delved deep into the cruelty of society, who has seen hell reflecting in the eyes of a person no less human than himself.

Shoving the first page of the article in his pocket, Marik ran upstairs, made up some unimaginative excuse, and was out the door before the store's owner could reply. The Egyptian remembered acutely the pain lacing Touzouko's normally stoic voice as he talked about his sister. He saw over and over again the photograph of Amane Bakura's smiling face. Jobs didn't matter now. He had to get home, save his mother before she too became the visage of a ghost trapped inside a picture frame.

* * *

Ryou wandered the pawnshop restlessly, riffling every so often through the various scratched CDs and other assorted knickknacks that lined the shelves. Yami was at the counter, attempting to gather some information about Anubis' recent purchases, and Malik and his brother were at another one of the man's stores somewhere downtown. They had split up to save time.

The teen didn't really have much to do. He was supposed to be questioning customers about the integrity of the chain's owner, but it was a slow day. The store was virtually empty.

Gazing at a glass case holding a multitude of ornately decorated knives, Ryou's thoughts slipped back to Marik and Bakura. He could see why his brother would be initially attracted to the blonde. After all, he was very beautiful, but in his wildest dreams Ryou would never have expected him to actually become attached. Marik was violent, stubborn, borderline psychotic, so similar to Bakura himself that they shouldn't have been able to stand each other. But somehow one monster had opened the heart of another. Mariku evoked emotions in Touzouko that few others ever had.

"Hey Ryou!" Atemu was calling to him from somewhere near the front door. He hadn't had any luck with the guy at the register or the manager. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Okay, just a se…"

Ryou paused as something bright caught his eye. A flash of crimson, every bit as fiery as Yami's eyes winked at him from behind another case of glass. It was a ruby strung out on a gold chain. Bile rising in his throat, Ryou stumbled backwards. That necklace had belonged to his mother. He could even remember playing with it as a small child, sliding the stone along the jewelry's delicate links. An unfathomable horror gripped the pale teen's heart. Anubis Apophis was a burglar. A burglar had shot his mother.

"Would you like to look at that? I can get it out for you."

Hot rasping at the back of his neck caused Ryou to whirl around. He found himself face to face with a tall, muscular man. He fit Atemu's description perfectly. Thick neck, brownish blonde hair, angry, unsettling eyes. Anubis was like some kind of mortal nightmare.

"I-I…no, no thank you. Just looking." Fear clouded the white haired boy's features as he stumbled backwards. He had to get out of here, away from the man whose hands were stained with his mother and sister's blood. Ryou fought to keep from crying as he hurried over to where Yami waited.

"Ryou…"

Not bothering to listen, Ryou bolted out the door. Nothing else mattered. His brother was at the other pawnshop just four blocks over. He had to get to him.

From one of the windows, Anubis watched as the boy sprinted down the street_. 'Weird kid.'_ Now that he thought about it, the brat had been kind of familiar. He didn't think he'd ever seen him particularly, but maybe someone who looked like him like a relative or a…

"Fuck!" Slamming his fist against the windowsill, Anubis let out a cry that was somewhere between an exclamation and a ferocious growl. The necklace that boy had been looking at! The details of the night he had stolen it replayed quickly in the thief's mind. The woman with brown eyes. The little girl whose hair had glinted like perfect silver. That boy, somehow he knew that Anubis had killed them!

Slipping out the back door, the man got in his truck and began driving, not in the same direction that boy had been going but somewhere else entirely. He had to head this off at the source. There was a loaded gun in his glove compartment. No one would leave that house alive.

* * *

"You want something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure."

Bakura stuck his head in the fridge, looking through assorted bottles of ketchup and old sauerkraut for something worth drinking. Their investigation at the downtown pawnshop hadn't gone too well, so he and Malik had returned early. His father was at the museum and Yami and Ryou had yet to get back so they lounged alone in the Bakura living room. Chucking a can of soda at his friend, the white haired teen plopped down on the couch. His expression was one of utmost frustration.

"Damn, I didn't think it would be this hard!"

Malik took a small sip of his beverage. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I…I'm really sorry about what happened. It was entirely my fault."

"Your fault? Malik, you're not to blame for your family's problems or Anubis."

"Yes but…I should have been more understanding." The Egyptian sniffed. "I-I mean…the way she looked at me! She was begging forgiveness and I just had to be an asshole about it!"

Bakura sighed. "It was understandable. Anyone else would have done the same."

"That still doesn't make it right!" Malik stood up suddenly, and started pacing about the room. "She's my mother for Ra's sake! I'm her son! Even Marik wouldn't…"

"You know you really need to stop talking about your brother like he's some kind of demon! He's not that fucking selfish!"

"I know that! I just…Touzouko what am I going to do? I haven't even told Isis yet! She's going to fly off the handle!" This outburst seemed to have drained Malik of whatever energy remained within him. He sank back into his chair and stared listlessly at the piano. "Kura, what do you see in him?"

For a moment it didn't seem that Bakura would reply. He just stood there, pondering this question as he had every day since that first night at Club Khonsu. "I don't know, Malik. I just…don't know."

"He thinks pretty highly of you. He tries to hide it, but I've never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you."

This caught the paler teenager off guard. What were Marik's true feelings for him? He'd never really thought about it before. For the most part he knew his own, fascination, pity, lust, maybe even more. Yes, he knew how he felt about Mariku, but not why he felt this way. He also had no idea what the Egyptian thought of him. Thinking about it made his stomach start to knot.

"Do you mean that?"

Malik was startled. He hadn't expected Bakura to reply. "Y-yes, of course I do. Seriously Kura, I know him. I…"

Whatever the blonde was about to say was lost as Bakura's cell phone suddenly went off. Gritting his teeth at the annoying ring tone, the boy checked the I.D. "It's Ry. Hold on a sec."

"Hello?"

"_Kura? Is that you? Oh my God! You won't believe this, but I…I…"_

Ryou's words became lost as he started to hyperventilate. Bakura frowned. "Slow down. What's going on?"

"_Y-you won't believe this, but I was in the pawnshop with Yami and…it was so horrible! Touzouko…he…he killed them!"_

"He? Who killed who? Ryou, what the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"_The necklace…I saw it! You know, the ruby. It was right there and then…"_

"Ryou, _what_ happened?"

There was a pause, and he could hear his little brother attempting to get control of his breathing. _"Anubis is the guy who…"_

"TOUZOUKO, GET DOWN!"

The phone was knocked from Bakura's hand as Malik barreled into him. The Egyptian acted just in time. A moment of hesitation and his friend would have been done for. As it was, the bullet aimed at Bakura struck one of the pictures on the mantel, glass from the frame exploding like a translucent firecracker.

"What the fuck?" Bakura covered his head as another shot rang out, making contact with the wall just inches away from his face. "Where's it coming from?"

"I don't know!" In his panic Malik stood up, unwittingly exposing himself to the assailant.

"MALIK! WHAT ARE YOU…"

The Egyptian screamed as the third bullet struck him in the shoulder. Bakura watched in abject horror as he fell. He was dead. His best friend was dead! Despair seemed to close in on him like a pall. Why? Why did he keep losing people? His mother had died. Amane had died. And now, so had Malik. Bowing his head, the white haired teen waited for the next shot, for darkness to take his mind completely.

From his position at one of the house's windows, Anubis took careful aim at the other boy kneeling on the floor. He would take care of this one then wait for the others to return so he could finish the job. He hated loose ends. He…

Studying the other, wounded teen, Anubis suddenly became aware of just how much he resembled Mariku. Same sun-kissed hair, same bronzed skin. They could have been twins. A new plan began to formulate in his mind. If this boy was in fact related to Marik then he was also related to Ishizu's daughter, Isis, as well. It was also very likely he was much closer to the woman than Marik. Both Isis Ishtar and the other's father, Gaijin Bakura, had unlimited access to Domino Museum and all of its contents. The Egyptian exhibit alone was worth billions. However money meant little to those whose loved ones were in danger. Anubis was known for being able to exploit every silver lining. Today would be no different.

Through the pain-filled haze that clouded his vision, Malik somehow managed to crawl to Bakura's side. His friend didn't appear to see him, but stared, eyes blank, body trembling.

"T-Touzouko…" Ignoring the blood coursing from the wound that had shattered his right shoulder blade, Malik shook the other teen.

"Malik?" This slight shake, like a sudden jolt of electricity, rocked Bakura to the core. The vacancy in his gaze dissipated as he realized that Malik wasn't dead. No, he was very much alive, and Bakura would make sure he stayed that way. He would honor the memory of his mother and sister by protecting what he still had. Their deaths would not be in vain.

Remembering his cell phone, Bakura began crawling across the floor on his hands and knees. If he could just make it without the gunman getting a clear shot…

"Move another inch and your friend here gets a face full of metal." Anubis stood in the center of the living room, gun pointed straight at Malik. Bakura froze. He was out of options. All he could do now was follow the man's orders.

"Pick him up and follow me." Still aiming at Malik, Anubis began making his way through the kitchen towards the back door. "Be quick about it or I'll shoot!"

Bakura didn't reply, but slipped his good arm around Malik's waist. The blonde was bleeding badly and almost unconscious. Still, if they wanted to stay alive he had no choice but to obey. He tried to think clearly, but in the back of his mind the white haired teen was screaming. Who was this guy? Why was he going to the trouble of kidnapping them rather than just making a clean job of it? Could it have something to do with Marik? No, of course not. Anubis Apophis was a burglar not an assassin.

"Don't break eye contact. That's right. Just look straight at me. Now, face against the hood! Get your arms behind you!" With practiced efficiency, Anubis bound both boys' arms and legs. He blindfolded them just as quickly, and within minutes they were in the back of his car, speeding down the highway. The man wracked his brain for somewhere to go. He had to get to a place where neither teen would be able to contact the outside world. Wait, that was it!

"Hey! Hey, are you listening?" Though he saw nothing, Bakura could hear Malik's shallow breathing. "If we don't get him to the hospital he's going to bleed to death!"

"Shut it, brat. He hasn't lost that much blood…trust me."

"Trust you?"

Slamming on the brakes, Anubis whirled around and shoved his gun right in the hostage's face. "One more fucking word and you won't last long enough to care if he lives or dies! Got that?"

Bakura didn't reply. It was hopeless. Thanks to his captor's insistence that he stare directly into his eyes, Bakura didn't even know what kind of car they were in, much less a plate number or where they were going. Still, he wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"Listen. Let Malik go! He's not worth anything to you!"

Anubis smirked. Hearing the tan kid's name assured him that he had not been mistaken. "I'll be the judge of that. Now shut the fuck up."

"BASTARD! I'LL MAKE SURE YOU ROT IN HELL FOR THIS! YOU…"

"Watch what you say kid! I've blown the brains out of people before! I won't make an exception just because you're a kid!"

Bakura suddenly went very still. "Do it. Do it then."

For an instant even Anubis was taken aback by the teen's bravery. The way he carried himself in the face of death was actually admirable. In an unusual moment of reflection he thought back through the years to an eerily similar situation. Only once before had he seen someone willing to die with so little fear. "Don't try to be a hero, kid. You of all people should know where that gets you."

"Me of all people? What the hell are you…"

Realization hit Touzouko like a blow to the stomach. What Ryou had been trying to tell him. The necklace. That gun. "You…you killed my mother."

* * *

"Dear Ra, Ryou! Why the hell did you run off like that?" Atemu had finally caught up with the youngest of the Bakura brothers, who stood outside another of Apophis' pawnshops, staring emptily at his cell phone. "Ryou, what's wrong?"

The teen replied by shaking his head. He'd heard it all, the gunshots, Malik's screams. Anubis had gotten there first. In his state of shock, Ryou didn't even think of calling the cops. Instead he dialed the first number that popped into his head.

"_Bakura speaking."_

"H-hey...Dad?"

"_Ryou? What's going on? You sound absolutely…hold on. The other line is beeping."_

"No! Wai..." Too late. Gaijin Bakura had taken the other call. Slamming shut his phone, Ryou's shoulders began to shake. Soon he clung to Atemu, sobbing as if his heart would break.

"Shh…it's okay." Still oblivious to what exactly was going on, the crimson eyed teen rubbed the other's back in soothing circles. "It'll be okay, Ryou. Don't worry. It'll be okay."

* * *

Mariku's breathing sounded heavy in his chest as he mounted the last flight of stairs that led to his apartment. His brain was a whirlwind of activity. If Anubis had in fact been the instigator of Amane and Yumiko Bakura's deaths then it made sense that what he took from their home had probably been sold in at least one of his stores. This presented a problem. It meant that the evidence was long gone. There would be no grounds on which to charge him. No! There had to be something, a finger print, DNA, _anything_ that could be used against him.

Reaching his apartment, Marik was surprised to find the door already unlocked. "What the hell?" Cautiously entering the main room, he looked around. "Mom?" Strange, why were the lights off?

"Mmm..."

The sound was coming from his mother's bedroom.

"Mmm!"

"Hold on!" Marik stumbled after the muffled voice. Something wasn't right. "Mom, is that…shit! Malik?"

His younger brother was lying, bound and gagged on the now crimson stained mattress. The blood was leaking through a bandage that had been hastily applied to a wound on his shoulder.

"Malik, what the hell is going on?" As gently as he could, Mariku pulled the other blonde into a sitting position. "What happened to your…"

"Marik, how nice of you to join us." Anubis stood in the doorway, an unconscious Touzouko slung carelessly over his back. In his hand was a fully loaded pistol. "No games this time kid. I want you spread eagle on the floor, which shouldn't be too hard considering…"

"What did you do to them? What the _HELL _did you do to them?"

"ON THE FLOOR!" Anubis snarled, brandishing his gun in the younger's face. Why did they have to be so damn heroic? Didn't they get it? In this world heroism meant nothing. It was a fool's ambition, something that in the end proved to be completely useless. He had seen people die for those they loved. He almost pitied them, thinking that by sacrificing their lives they could somehow prevent the inevitable. "Didn't you hear me? Get on the floor!"

"Not until you let them out of here."

Throwing Bakura to the ground, Anubis lunged at the Egyptian and pinned him up against the wall. They were so close that veins could actually be seen pulsing in the man's neck. "Don't pull that shit, Marik," he hissed into the other's ear. "I've known you a long time, but believe me. You _are _expendable."

"Al-alright. Fine." Mariku went lax, allowing the much larger man to bind him as he had Bakura and Malik. He didn't like giving in, but he didn't have much of a choice. The others were in pretty bad shape, Malik from what he guessed was a bullet, and Bakura a head wound probably inflicted to make him shut up. If he was going to get them out of here, the Egyptian had to keep his wits about him. There was no telephone, but he did have neighbors. Maybe he could find some way of signalling for help.

"Hello? Mr. Bakura, is it?"

Mariku listened attentively as Anubis addressed someone on his cell phone.

"I'm afraid your son has been a bit of a trouble maker. Come pick him up? No, that won't be necessary. Listen, I believe you are acquainted with one Miss Isis Ishtar. Yes, Malik is here as well."

Marik frowned. He could see Anubis' lips curl into a cruel smile as he toyed with the other man.

"No, I'm afraid I can't tell you where they are? Now if you'll just contact Isis…well of course this is a kidnapping." Anubis looked like a wolf preparing itself to go in for the kill. "I'm afraid yelling won't save your son, Mr. Bakura. Just do exactly as I say. You have ten minutes to contact Isis. Do not call the police. Do not tell anyone else that I have contacted you. When these ten minutes are up I will call back. If you do not have the woman in the office with you when I call I am afraid I will have to take some drastic measures. Believe me, Mr. Bakura, it will not bode well for either of them if my demands aren't met.

Not waiting for a reply, Anubis hung up the phone and turned to Mariku. His eyes were cold, his face contorted in a mirthless smirk. "If you understand nothing else in life, Marik, then understand this. In this world you have yourself and only yourself. There is no attachment. There is no trust. The only way to survive is to love yourself above all others. Forget mercy. Mercy is only weakness with an honorable title."

Marik shook his head. "M-mercy? You don't know what mercy is!" But in the back of his mind, the Egyptian remembered the night Bakura had pulled him out of the rain. What a supreme act of righteousness, nursing his own worst enemy back to health. Yes, Touzouko had shown him great mercy…but look what it had gotten him. Bleeding, helpless and unconscious on the floor of a third rate apartment. Anubis was right. Mercy was a weakness.

* * *

-TOT (This chapter was really difficult to write, trying to get everything to sort of fall together. Also, I realized that Anubis' character is too one-dimensional. I hate that in a villain. I'm not trying to make him less evil, just more human. After all, no one's born a monster. Oh, and thanks for all the reviews. It's really great to hear from readers.) 


	12. Awry

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 11-Awry**

* * *

"Did you call the police?"

From where he sat in the Ishtar living room, Ryou Bakura nodded. "Yes…"

Rishid bit his lip. "What did they say? Did they find them?"

The youngest Bakura brother shook his head. "Th-there's not much they can do." He buried his face in his hands. "They don't have enough leads!"

Yami slammed his fist against the coffee table in frustration. "But we KNOW who did it! It was Anubis!"

"What does it matter? They're probably dead anyway."

Both Rishid and Atemu gave the white haired boy a sharp look. Ryou hadn't been himself since the phone call. It was as if he had completely given up.

"We don't know that." The crimson eyed teen stood and crossed his arms. They didn't find any bodies at your house, so really…isn't it more probable that they were kidnapped?"

"What does it matter?" Ryou choked on his own tears. "I heard the gunshots, Yami! I…I heard them screaming…why does everyone always have to die?"

"I refuse to believe they are dead just yet." Bowing his head, Rishid prayed for his cousin's safety. He was certain that neither Malik nor Touzouko would give up that easily. Plus, if it was true that Anubis was their captor, wasn't it possible that Mariku could find out about this? The fact that he also knew Bakura made this even more likely.

"If only we knew where that bastard went with them!" Atemu paced back and forth restlessly, trying to think of something…_anything_…that could lead them to Anubis. "He's not in any of his shops. The police have already confirmed that, and he wouldn't make it very far trying to smuggle two kidnap victims out of the country." The petite boy scratched the back of his neck. "That leaves his mansion, but they have that secured also. Besides, there are too many phones. Malik and Bakura would definitely be smart enough to get their hands on one. So then…"

"Wait a minute." Ryou looked up. "Didn't you say something about Marik's apartment not having phone service?"

"Yes. That's true, but I…"

"Maybe he took them there!" For the first time in hours Ryou attempted something close to a smile. "It would be perfect. Out of the way, secluded. He's hiding out right under our noses!"

Rishid glanced at the youngest Bakura and nodded. "You could be right. Let's call the police and see what they can do."

Atemu pulled out his phone and began to dial. As calm as Rishid appeared on the surface and as fragile as Ryou's hopes had now become, he knew that they needed something to hold on to. Anubis being at Mariku's apartment was a long shot, but if this possibility brought them comfort, they could at least try it out.

As the phone began to ring, the crimson eyed teen turned back to Ryou. "Hey, why don't you try to get a hold of your dad?"

Ryou frowned. "I've been trying for the last hour. He won't pick up."

* * *

When Bakura came to he was lying on the floor of a dimly lit room, a vicious headache pounding in his ears. Nearby someone could be heard talking on a cell phone. They sounded threatening.

"Touzouko, is that you?"

He could just make out Mariku's silhouette, illuminated by the faint glow of streetlights coming through the window. What was he doing here? Wait, where were they? What about Malik? He'd been shot! He needed to see a doctor! He… Bakura tried to speak but found himself unable to because of the duct tape covering his mouth. All he could manage was a muffled grunt.

"Shh…it's okay. I'll…here, just a second." Rising to his knees despite his restraints, Marik inched awkwardly in the other teen's direction. Bakura was uncertain of what he was attempting. Then he felt the Egyptian's warm lips press against his face.

'_Ishtar…'_

"Hold on." Carefully, Marik used his teeth to peel away the duct tape. He was surprisingly delicate, working patiently until the gag was completely removed.

Despite the situation Bakura had to laugh. "You're fucking insane. You do know that, right?"

"Insane? You have no idea." Marik gave him a fleeting smile before turning to examine his younger brother. "What happened to his shoulder?"

Bakura's smirk dissolved quickly. "He…Anubis shot him."

"What?" Concern clouded the Egyptian's features. "He _shot_ him! Sh-shit! What are we going to…"

"Calm down, Ishtar! He's not dead yet!" Now it was Bakura who had to keep a level head. "I don't think it's too serious. That bastard, Anubis, stopped the bleeding when he bandaged it. As long as the wound doesn't get infected Malik should be fine."

"Y-yeah, okay. I can deal with that." Despite his words Marik looked like he was about to throw up. He put his ear next to Malik's face, making sure his unconscious brother was still breathing. Considering their situation Bakura couldn't really blame him. After all, if it were Ryou in this position…

"Kura?"

The paler boy snapped out of his musings. Mariku had never used that nickname with him before. "Yeah?"

"There's something you should…understand…about Anubis." The blonde hesitated, not really knowing how to continue.

"It's alright. I know what he did to them, and he will NOT get away with it."

Mariku said nothing, but sighed and slumped exhaustedly against the side of the bed. Very rarely did he allow his emotions to become visible on his face, but the teen's mind was so troubled, so filled with inner torment, that he really looked as if he might cry. Bakura remembered seeing him walking up that rainy street, how tired he had appeared. This was the real Mariku, the real person hiding behind the cocky, sharp-tongued bastard seen by everyone else.

"Don't worry, Ishtar. We'll get through this."

Inhaling shakily, the blonde began to pull himself back together. He couldn't afford to lose his head now. Anubis was still somewhere in the apartment, and whatever his plans were they wouldn't bode well for either Malik or Touzouko. He remembered the man's words. _'You are expendable.' _This wasn't about Mariku, but he would be damned if he let that asshole get away with more than he already had.

"I'll kill him." Staring off at nothing in particular, Bakura gave an almost demented chuckle. "I…I'll make him beg! That fucker…he _will_ pay!"

Something in his voice was so dark, so unbearably twisted, that even Marik had to shudder.

* * *

In the living room of the same apartment Anubis settled down to wait. It had been three minutes since he had called. That meant Gaijin Bakura had seven minutes left to contact Isis. Scare tactics always worked. Under a time constraint, the victims' families were far less likely to contact the police and would comply with almost any demands.

Stretching his stiff shoulders, the man went over his plan once more in his head. Call them back. Demand 4 million American dollars worth of artifacts, all to be paid before the boys were released. He would have them deliver the goods to Domino Harbor where one of his accomplices was already prepared to pick them up with his motor boat. Once his treasure was secure, Anubis would call them back and tell them where to find Bakura and Malik. He would leave them in an abandoned alley, drugged and blindfolded but in considerably better condition than if his demands had been ignored. Yes, Anubis' plan was nearly perfect. However there was still a single major flaw. What was he going to do with Marik?

For a moment the man pondered this. How was he supposed to keep the stupid brat quiet? Of course the answer really was simple. He had to kill him. He would throw the blonde in the back of his car, drive him a few kilometers up some forgotten back road, and blow his fucking brains out. Yet…for some strange reason this step did not want to formulate itself into Anubis' master plan. No matter how many times he went over all the things he must do in order to obtain the money, the man's mind always became stuck on what to do about Mariku. What was wrong with him? He had an easy solution. Could it be that he didn't want the kid to die?

"Don't be stupid," Anubis muttered to himself. If anything, he liked seeing the blonde in pain. Battering Marik around was actually one of his favorite pastimes besides fucking the brat's mother. No, he wasn't afraid of shooting him. It would actually be a pleasure. Checking the time, he once more dialed the elder Bakura's phone number.

"_H-hello?"_

"Is she there?"

"_Yes."_

"Good. Is anyone else around?"

"_N-no."_

"Put it on speakerphone. Hello, Miss Ishtar?"

"_You monster! What have you done with my brother? You…" _

"If you value his life then you'll shut the fuck up." Anubis smirked as both adults gasped, a sound audible even over the static of his cell phone. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't give a fuck about you or your families. For me this is strictly business. You get me what I want, and there will be no harm done to either of them."

For a moment there was silence. Then Isis replied, her tear-drenched voice sounding eerily like that of her mother. _"Fine. Tell us what you want."_

Things went considerably smoother after that. Preparations were made in less than five minutes. Artifacts from the museum would be dropped off at two o'clock that very night. Then, at two fifteen, after receiving verification from his henchman, Anubis would call them again and disclose the boys' location. The deal was made seamlessly. His plans would unfold without a hitch. Flipping shut his phone, the man got up to check on his hostages. However he hadn't gone two steps before something else caught his attention.

Ishizu Ishtar stood in the doorway. She had heard everything. Stumbling backward, the bag of groceries and job applications she was holding fell from her trembling hands. For a moment there was silence, silence penetrated only by the faint throb of music coming from the apartment below. Then Anubis moved forward.

"Ishizu…" He reached out to her, a seemingly innocent smile playing at his lips. "What's wrong, baby? You look like you've just seen a…"

"Cut the shit, and tell me what the _hell_ that phone call was about!"

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, sweetheart."

Balling her hands into fists, Ishizu took a hesitant step forward. This was her house. She wouldn't be chased out of it by anyone. "What are you up to?"

Inwardly Anubis baulked. Nothing was working on her, and it seemed he would be forced to take more drastic measures.

"Anubis, will you…what was that?"

"What was what?"

Ishizu cocked her head to the side. Someone was yelling for her. It sounded like Mariku. Was he in trouble? Wait! That phone call! "You bastard! What did you do to my son?"

Instead of a reply the woman received a cheap punch to the face. She cried out as a second blow buried itself into her stomach. As she crumpled to the floor, the woman tried to call out to her son, but it was too late. Everything began to fade to black.

Hefting the passed out woman over his shoulders, Anubis made his way back to the bedroom. He set her down before unlocking and opening the door, knowing full well that he would need all of his strength if…

The man didn't even get the chance too brace himself. The second the door was open Mariku was on him. Arms and legs tethered though they were, the Egyptian youth still managed to knock him clean off his feet. The force of his charge sent both males crashing to the ground. Desperate to stay on top of his much heavier adversary, Marik drove his shoulder into Anubis' chest.

"Fu…," the man wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs. "…you little…I'm gonna…"

The blonde wasn't listening. He was too busy doing everything he possibly could to destroy Anubis Apophis. In place of his hands he used his teeth, bighting and snapping at the larger male like some kind of deranged wild thing. He was being controlled by the basest, most essential and ferocious instincts of nature, instincts that went beyond mere humanity, beyond all rational thought and reason. It was a necessity bound in blood. To protect one's kin. It was as primal as it was noble.

Anubis screamed as the teen's teeth sank into the palm of his hand. Blood was everywhere. It was as if he were being mauled by some kind of dog! In a last ditch effort to end this attack, the man grabbed Marik by the hair and heaved. The younger Egyptian yelped as his body was sent crashing into the opposite wall. Wasting no time, Anubis hauled himself to his feet and, with three swift kicks to the face, spewed Marik's blood all over the carpet.

Bakura watched in abject horror as Anubis continued to punish the blonde. He flinched as Mariku emitted a short, agonizing scream. That bastard of a human being was hitting him in the stomach, right where the beer bottle had cut him several weeks ago. He had to do something! He couldn't just stand there and watch the boy he cared about be beaten into pulpy mess.

Using the frame of the door as a crutch, Bakura made it to his feet, but almost fell seconds later as his head began to throb profusely His vision blurred, but somehow the white haired boy managed to keep his footing. Still, his legs were tightly bound. It was going to take a miracle for him to make it down the hall in time to stop Anubis.

Through the unimaginable amount of pain coursing through his body, Mariku could still make out the paler teen inching towards him. He almost smiled. At least this wouldn't be like last time, lying alone, hurt and bleeding on the floor of his empty apartment. No. No matter how much agony he was forced to endure Marik could console himself with a single thought. He wasn't alone. He would never be alone again.

The Egyptian's eyes began drifting shut, causing alarm bells to sound in Bakura's mind. _Fuck!_ Mustering up all the strength left in his battered body, the paler teen threw himself in their direction. Anubis turned just in time to be winded once more as the top half of Bakura's body struck him full force in the gut.

As Marik had done, Bakura tried to keep on top of the older male. However the man had somehow managed to get a hold of his throat. Pulling the youth off his feet, Anubis began to squeeze. He smirked as the boy began to struggle, his pale face growing even paler. "You like that, punk? This is what it feels like to die!"

Bakura thrashed wildly. It couldn't end like this! He didn't want to die! But wait. Didn't Anubis _need_ him? After all, without him and Malik the deal was off. Still, the feral glint in the man's eyes reminded him that rage could easily overcome reason. Twisting his body helplessly, Bakura let loose a silent scream. Everything was going dark. He couldn't even remember his own name.

Sometimes dumb luck can be the deciding factor between death and salvation. It is not always fair. It is not always constant, but it is a force worthy of consideration. Luck is powerful, devastating, both friend and foe. It can disrupt the fortunes of many with a single change of heart. However it seemed that luck had decided to smile upon Touzouko Bakura that night. The rope binding his arms was very old. It gave way with a resounding snap.

It was Anubis' turn to cry out as the teen swung at him with his broken arm. Plaster met flesh, and the man released him as his nose was completely shattered by the blow. Sinking to the floor, Bakura gasped for oxygen. He felt as if his windpipe were on fire. He coughed, and blood welled in his throat like a fountain.

Stumbling backwards, Anubis tried to stem the flow of sanguine liquid spurting from his nose. He swayed dizzily, too dazed to keep his balance, and fell hard on his face.

"Ishtar?" Ignoring the sting in his throat as well as that in his broken arm, Bakura crawled in the blonde's direction. Grasping him by the shoulders, the paler teen gave him a good shake. "Come on, Ishtar!" His voice was almost desperate. "Don't pull this shit with me!"

A soft groan winced past Marik's lips, and slowly he opened his eyes. His gaze focused uneasily on the other boy. "Tou…Touzouko?" Even his voice seemed broken. "I…"

A strange, clattering hitch in Marik's breathing caused Bakura to flinch. This was worrisome. What if he had a collapsed lung? "Shh…it's alright, baby. Don't talk if it hurts."

"Touzouko!" Taking in more harsh gasps of air, the Egyptian clutched feebly at his lover's chest. At the same time he looked away, shamefully trying to hide the tears coursing down his face. He couldn't help himself. It hurt too much.

With a tenderness no one would have thought him capable of, Bakura tried to wipe the tears from Marik's face. "Don't…" His own voice had begun to crack. "God damn it, Ishtar! Stop it!"

The blonde's shoulders shook piteously as he buried his face into Bakura's chest. He cried out in torment, wracking sobs sending shockwaves of pain through his practically mutilated body. This was it. He had passed the final breaking point. Blood leaked easily from his wounds, and all Marik mutter his lover's name. "…Touzouko…it hurts…oh God…_T-Touzouko_…"

Fingers quivering, Bakura hastily undid the ropes tying his legs and pulled the tanner boy into his arms. He winced as the flow of blood returned in a burning rush to his feet. Still, he managed to carry Mariku far enough to lay him on the bed beside Malik. Making sure the Egyptian was lying on his side in case he happened to vomit, Bakura stumbled back into the hall to retrieve Ishizu.

"Ms. Ishtar?"

Slowly the woman's eyes inched open. However when she saw Touzouko, she let out a sharp gasp. "G-Gaijin?"

The teen gave her a funny look and slowly shook his head. "My name's Touzouko. I'm a…friend…of Marik's"

"Marik's!" Somehow Ishizu managed to stumble to her feet. "Where is he? Where's my son?"

Carefully, Bakura studied the woman. So this was Marik and Malik's mother. How strange. He'd heard all about this woman, seen how she could be when under the influence of drugs. Yet, at the same time, he recognized in her a violently maternal, almost stifling sense of love. For all of her faults, no one could accuse Ishizu Ishtar of not caring for her children. She loved them. She loved them with everything she had.

"They're in here." Taking her by the arm, he led the woman into the bedroom. She gasped at what she saw.

"God…oh _GOD!_ What happened to them? Why are they bleeding?" Ishizu stood immobile, hand covering her mouth. She was too stunned to move, frozen by her abject horror of the whole situation.

Marik, still clinging to consciousness, gazed with widened eyes at his mother. "Mom…" He tried to think of something to say, anything he could use to explain away his appalling condition and hide from her the truth. But that wouldn't work anymore. If they wanted to get out of this alive there could be no more secrets. "Mom, I…"

As if freed from some sort of imagined spell, Ishizu rushed over and pulled the boy into her arms. "Marik! Marik, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault! I…" The woman continued, murmuring softly in a language Bakura couldn't understand. She stroked her son's arms, his hair, his still tear-sodden cheeks. When was the last time she had seen him cry? Ishizu couldn't even remember.

The paler teen averted his eyes, trying not to think of his own mother. However this also reminding him of what he had sworn to do. Silently, Bakura left the room. He went over to the coffee table where the man had left his revolver and picked it up. He was surprised by the gun's weight, by its frigid glint and the way the barrel seemed to open up before him like a black and endless maw.

He made sure the safety was off and turned back to the bedroom. His face was transformed into a mask of death. He would shoot Anubis where he lay passed out in the hallway. Bakura didn't care if this was a cheap way to kill someone. The man was a monster, devoid of all ethics and human morals. He didn't deserve a hero's death. Dishonor would be the fitting digger of his grave.

However as he entered the hallway, Bakura was met with a nasty shock. Anubis had vanished! Panic searing all thoughts of revenge from his mind, the teen dashed into the bedroom. Ishizu and Malik were still on the bed. One was quaking, the other still unconscious, but where was Marik? Dread building in his stomach, he looked in the direction of Ishizu's gaze.

"Drop the gun!" Anubis was standing on the other side of the room. In one arm he held Mariku, in the other, a black-handled switchblade. The blonde struggled exhaustedly. He had stopped crying, but it was clear that he was in no condition to fight. Anubis had retaken control of the situation.

"Let him go!"

"Drop the gun or I swear I'll rip his throat clean out! Do you understand?" The monster smiled, his blood drenched face making him seem even more inhuman. Anubis was terrible, sadistic, but most of all he was desperate. Bakura could see it in his eyes. Someone was going to dies before this night was through.

Ishizu sat huddled against Malik on the bed. Her eyes were wide with shock and unshed tears. "My son," She whispered over and over like a mantra. "My son…my son…m-my son…"

* * *

-TOT (I hope you liked it! I decided a little cliffie was in order. Anyway, this story's almost done. I'm planning on one more chapter and an epilogue. It's been fun, but I'm ready to move on to a new fic. As usual thank you so much for the reviews. They're very inspiring.) 


	13. Love

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Chapter 12-Love**

* * *

Marik tried not to breathe as the blade traveled along his throat. The touch was feather light, but he knew that it could easily press too deep. Knives were like people, useful, lovely even, but most of all they were deadly. Steel was too impersonal. It could turn on you in an instant.

Across the room, he studied in an almost detached manner how badly Bakura's hands were shaking. _If he shoots now he's going to miss. _Wait, if he shot now Marik would be dead. Anubis' maliciousness would surely keep him from bleeding to death long enough to slit his throat. It was odd, but at the moment the blonde didn't really find the thought of death all that frightening. It wasn't that he wanted to die. He just seemed to be looking at the possibility with a calmer mindset than most.

Bakura's mind, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of agitation. Why did Mariku suddenly look so peaceful? Even his neck, which a moment ago had been so tense he could see the veins bulging from it across the room, suddenly went lax. _Please don't give up. Come on, Ishtar! We've still got a chance! _Well, maybe the Egyptian wasn't giving up so much as the shock was just preventing him from thinking clearly. No, Marik wouldn't submit. He…he couldn't.

"Damn it! Let him go!" The revolver jumped nervously in Bakura's hands.

"First drop the gun."

The white haired teen shuddered. There had to be some way to end this stalemate! If only he could get a clear shot, the head maybe. But Anubis kept Marik in front of him, the perfect human shield.

"Please Anubis," Ishizu murmured. "Please, he's my son!"

"Save it!" The man held the blade a little closer to the Egyptian's neck. He would make it out of this! He…he was a survivor, and he would stay alive even if he had to kill every other person in this room! This was what life had taught him. You had only yourself. You trusted only yourself. But, most importantly, you loved only yourself because the world was cruel. The world loved no one. This was the single, universal law to which Anubis had learned to obey.

"P-please." Standing up, Ishizu moved in the man's direction on trembling limbs. "I'm begging you…"

"Shut up! G-get away from me!" Anubis' eyes grew impossibly wide. The cords in his neck strained as if they would surely burst. He looked insane, beyond insane. He was possessed, possessed by hatred, pain, desperation. Looking at him was like staring into the eyes of Hell. Humanity had given way to monstrosity.

Yet Ishizu did not retreat. In fact she seemed to become more certain of herself as she drew nearer. The woman's back straightened. The quaking in her legs ceased. She seemed to glow with a kind of indefinable, ethereal light. It was inside her eyes, beneath her skin, clinging to the tendrils of her hair. It was everywhere and nowhere, palpable yet out of reach. It was love, pure, selfless, beautiful love that came from caring for another more than yourself. It transpired all reason, all sense of rational thought and self preservation. It was unaffected by the world. It _was_ the world, a secret current flowing beneath that which was putrid and ugly and wrong. This was the love that brought hope, the love that had shone in the eyes of Bakura's mother as she stood strong in the face of death.

"You slut! Back off!" Anubis didn't understand. Why was she coming closer? Didn't Ishizu know that he could kill her son with one flick of the wrist? No. He couldn't. The second Marik fell that other brat would be on him. He had seen the look of resignation on the paler teen's face. He meant to kill him.

"Anubis." She was so close she could almost touch them. "He's all I have. Please, I know you're not that cruel! Do this for me!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Ishtar, but your wrong." It took all Bakura had not to drop the gun and simply tear the man to pieces. "He _is_ that cruel. Get back before he hurts either you or Mariku!"

"…h-he's right…" Marik's voice was very small. He had to whisper so as not to accidentally be pierced by the blade. "…go back to Malik…"

Tears coursing down her cheeks, Ishizu shook her head. Even at the doors of death, he was still protecting her. Why? She had never done anything but hinder him. It was her fault he had to drop out of school, her fault they didn't have a clean apartment, heating, or phone service. If not for her, Marik would be living in the house of his childhood, preparing for his senior year of high school. Instead he was here, bound and bleeding with a switchblade held against his throat. No. Ishizu couldn't go back. She couldn't leave him here.

"Didn't you hear him you stupid bitch? GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Anubis removed the knife away from Marik's neck long enough to brandish it in the woman's face. "I won't tell you again! I…"

Bakura didn't hesitate. The second the man removed his knife he took aim and fired. Anubis bellowed like a wild animal as the bullet struck him in the thigh. He screamed three more times, each one more terrifying than the last. Still, he knew enough not to release his hold on Marik in order to clutch at his wound. The bullet hadn't hit that vital artery of the leg. He wasn't finished just yet.

Bakura had expected him to release Mariku and drop to his knees, but to the white haired teen's horror, Anubis looked at him and laughed.

"That hurt, but I promise it will be you screaming before this night is through!" The man laughed again, blood from his broken nose staining his teeth a muddy crimson. "I'll start with this one."

Mariku braced himself. He knew it was coming, the painful butchering of the flesh, the sensation of hot, life-giving blood rushing from his body. He closed his eyes, awaiting the sting of Anubis' blade, but it never came. Reading perfectly the man's intentions, Ishizu had made it just in time. She clung determinedly to his beefy wrist. Her hands were small but her grip unfaltering in its strength.

With both Ishizu and Marik blocking his view, Bakura knew he couldn't get a clear shot. Still, if Anubis would just drop the knife…

"Ughhh…" On the bed Malik was stirring. He grunted softly and opened his eyes. Because of the gag he couldn't speak but, seeing the gun in his friend's hands, the boy let out a terrified moan. Twisting himself around to see what Bakura was aiming at, he created a new noise, something closer to a muffled shriek.

"Malik, stay on the bed! Don't move!" Yelling from the corner of his mouth, Bakura kept his eyes trained on Anubis. He prayed that Malik would be calm, that he wouldn't do anything stupid. Things were going downhill quickly. He had to find a way to get Marik and his mother out of the way.

"What are you gonna do now, huh?" Anubis' grin trembled with savagery. "You gonna shoot some dumb kid and his mom in cold blood just to get to me?"

"Shut up, you piece of shit! YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Come on, you'll do anything to get even! Shoot them! It's not hard Touzouko Bakura. You just aim down the barrel and squeeze!"

A horrible, sick sensation crawled into the paler teen's chest. It was true. He could easily shoot them. It wasn't that he hated the blonde and his mother. No, he had nothing against Ishizu, and as for Marik…well, he loved him. In his own stupid, bitter way Bakura really loved him. But that was the thing. As much as Bakura might have loved Marik, he hated Anubis more.

"What are you waiting for?" Anubis was past the point of rational thought. He no longer possessed any concept of life or death, failure or survival. All he could focus on was his deep, unhinged loathing for the white haired boy before him. Why was he hesitating? Didn't he see that in order to get revenge you had to forfeit your soul? The man had learned long ago that everything came with a price. After the first bullet there was no turning back. You killed someone, and you killed a part of yourself. You were no longer innocent. You were no longer even human. But at least you had your strength. At least you got that bastard worse than he got you. It didn't matter how many had to die before then. They were just a part of the cost. "DAMNIT! WHY DON'T YOU KILL THEM?"

Bakura flinched. Anubis was asking for it. He was _literally_ asking for it, but Marik and Ishizu were innocent. He couldn't just shoot them! But that asshole had killed his mother. He'd killed a six-year old girl! It wasn't fair. How could someone so horrible be allowed to go on living when they had died? He remembered the blood, the screams, oh God, the screams!

Marik watched as the paler's expression began to change. It was as if his features were twisting. What had once been the face of Touzouko Bakura was transformed into a mask of death. Determination oozed from every pore, but it was determination fueled not by devotion but by pure, unbridled hate. Before this moment the blonde would never have thought him capable of this, but one look in Bakura's eyes and Marik realized that his life might end that very instant.

Malik too noted the terrible pall that had wrapped itself around his friend. With brutal certainty he saw that Bakura was about to snap. He had to do something. He… There was no use. All he could do was writhe and scream.

As if in a trance, Bakura took a step forward. Three more steps and he was halfway across the room, that much closer to Anubis, that much closer to what he knew had to be done.

Mariku closed his eyes as the paler boy took aim. He couldn't bear it. It wasn't so much the thought of dying as it was that of who was killing him that made the Egyptian sick. The fact that the person he loved was going to shoot him was something even Marik could not face.

The second she realized what was going to happen, Ishizu's mind became a blank sheet. She froze. Shock had finally overwhelmed the last bit of coherency she possessed. Unable to will her hands to release their grip on Anubis' wrist she looked on, restrained by her own sense of horror.

_Bang._

The discharge seemed to send shockwaves down the entire course of Bakura's body. They reverberated across the space of his chest and arms, triggering memories that made their home only in the hauntings of his dreams. Amane's cries for help, the martyrdom of his beloved mother, Anubis Apophis' bloodstained grin. All were wrapped into the eternally resonate syllable of that single gunshot.

_He's dead. _Bakura didn't look at them. He couldn't bring himself to see past his quivering hands, still clutching the revolver, to the ghastly scene he must have created. Mariku's body sprawled out on the floor, facial features decimated and bloody from the bullet's impact. His golden hair would be tainted crimson. His beautifully haunting voice would call out only in the paler's nightmares. What had he done? What the _hell_ had he done?

"Touzouko…"

Bakura didn't respond. Instead he screamed. The sound held a terrible, heart-wrenching keen, audible yet at the same time beyond range of all human hearing. He cried out again, and it held so much pain, such a sense of regret, self-loathing, and loss, that all who heard it couldn't help but shiver.

"Touzouko! LOOK AT ME!"

The sound in Bakura's throat cut off abruptly, but still he refused to look up. Why was Marik calling out to him? H-he was dead. He'd shot him! "…please…" The teen's expression was contorted with grief. "…I'm so sorry…please…"

"FOR LOVE OF _RA_, BAKURA! _I'M NOT DEAD_!"

The teen's eyes shot up, and he let out a sort of hiccupping gasp. Mariku's brilliantly dark orbs stared back at him, unquestionably alive. In the wall, six inches to the left of the Egyptian's head, a small hole could be seen where the bullet had actually struck. Suddenly he wanted to laugh. Marik was alive! Bakura's stupidity hadn't killed him after all, and because of this they had a fighting chance. "For the last time, Anubis! Release them, or my next shot finds your head!"

"Idiot! You wouldn't dare!" Until now Anubis hadn't moved. The firearm's report had shocked the madness right out of him. He could have died. He could have fucking died! Mariku and his mother were the man's living shield, and if either of them went down he would be next. How could he have been so stupid? To goad Bakura on like that? It was sheer insanity. He didn't want to die!

But what was he to do? Anubis didn't have to think hard to answer that one. It was time to take a risk.

Ishizu was still clinging determinedly to the man's arm, but her adrenaline was fading and he was far stronger than she could ever be. With a flick of the wrist Anubis had pulled himself from her grasp and, grabbing her own wrist, thrown her straight into the white haired teen.

Bakura grunted as the woman collided with his chest. He managed to keep hold of the gun but lost his footing and fell. In the midst of curses and tangled limbs the boy didn't look up until it was almost too late, but Anubis' injured leg proved to be a hindrance. Bakura made it to the hall just in time to catch the man hauling his unwilling captive towards the door.

"Another step and you're dead, Apophis!"

Jerking Mariku's almost limp body in front of himself, Anubis turned once more to face the paler boy. Things weren't looking good. Not only had he lost part of his defenses, but in his flight the man had dropped his knife as well. Now all that remained between him and certain death was a 120 pound 17 year old and about ten feet of open space.

"Didn't you hear me?" The boy's voice crackled with rage. "You've done enough harm already! It's time to end this!"

"Only after you've dropped the gun."

For a moment Bakura stared down the weapon's barrel. He imagined how it would sound, how it would _feel_, to pull the trigger one more time. To send that bullet smashing right into Anubis' fucking face. It would be glorious. It would be perfect. What he wouldn't give to finally lay to rest that which had haunted his entire childhood. He would give his life, his soul, his future, his…love? No, Bakura knew better now.

The gun hit the floor with a resonate thud. Hands no longer shaking, the teen stared straight into the monster's eyes. "Release him. He's nothing to you now."

Anubis hesitated. After all the desperation, the blood, the screams, for it to end so quickly was something beyond his understanding. Violence quelled by compassion. Bloodlust discarded for something deeper. Meeting Bakura's eyes, the man felt as if he were reaching out, blindly trying to grasp that which he had lost long ago. Too long ago unfortunately. In an instant Anubis was torn from his reverie. With a barking laugh he tossed Mariku at the paler's feet. "By all means, take him!"

"Ishtar!" Dropping to his knees, Bakura cradled the Egyptian in his arms. "Hey, you awake?"

Marik laid his head weakly against the other's chest. "…Kura…"

Bakura choked. "Oh God! Marik!" He buried his face in the blonde's mop of sweaty hair. "I'm sorry…please…so sorry…how could I…how…"

"Shh…" Mariku tried to sit up. "D-don't apologize."

"But I…"

"Damnit Bakura! I don't care!" The Egyptian used everything he had left to kiss his distraught lover. "I don't give a shit what you did. All that matters is that it's over…it's fucking over."

* * *

Anubis' ignored the excruciating throbbing in his injured leg as he sprinted down the hall. He bumped into a young woman but kept going, ignoring her indignant cry. He had to get out of there. At any moment Bakura would come out, gun blazing, to finish the job. Still, despite the pain, despite the fear, the man couldn't help but grin. Things hadn't gone as smoothly as he might have hoped, but neither Isis nor Gaijin knew that. They still thought Anubis had control of the boys, and because of this he was about to make a pile of money.

Entering the stairwell, he actually laughed. Five flights below him the side door could be seen, EXIT sign glowing a fantastic fire engine red. _'Screw the shops! I'm gonna be a fucking billionaire!'_ Anubis sneered. Those idiots back in the apartment. Their ridiculous beliefs about things like honor and love! Were they blind? Couldn't they see that it was a dog eat dog world? Either win or lose, kill or be killed. There was no in between. Mercy got you nowhere. Power was everything.

With a small shout of triumph Anubis set his hand upon the door's cool surface and pushed. Then he was outside, bathing in a mixture of midsummer starlight and a million city shadows. He was out. He was free. He was…

Pain a million times worse than that in his leg brought the man crashing to his knees. For a moment Anubis looked around, dumbstruck. "What the hell…" He clutched dumbly at his chest as it started to burn. Something hot was running through his fingers. A distant pop and suddenly he couldn't breathe. The man felt as if his lungs had been ripped open. Blood pooled in his mouth and nose, leaked from the orifices of his ears. As everything began to fade to black Anubis let out a silent, oxygen-deprived scream.

Around the corner of the next building crouched three mean. They were clothed head to toe in black, each sporting a riot shield, bullet proof vest, and wickedly cocked sniper rifle. One pulled out a hand held radio.

"Subject down. Repeat. Subject down in back alley. Over."

"_Nice work. Any chance of escape? Over."_

For a moment the officer allowed himself a grim smile. "No sir. I think we got him."

* * *

For Mariku, consciousness came in a flash of blinding white. He groaned. Was he dead? Was this what Heaven was really like? A world of porcelain walls and the unending whir of overhead lighting? No, the Egyptian realized. He wasn't dead. He was in a hospital.

"Marik…Marik!"

Someone was standing over him. His eyes were too blurry to focus, but that voice…it was so familiar.

"S-sister?"

"Oh my God!" The shadowy figure above him turned to the doorway. "He's awake!"

Hearing Isis' cry, Ryou and Marik's mother hurried into the room.

"Is he alright?" Kneeling, Ishizu laid a cool hand on her son's forehead. In all actually she should still have been in her own room, but the woman couldn't stand being away from her eldest son. He was the only one who had yet to wake up.

A funny little moan escaped Marik's throat as he leaned into his mother's touch. As his eyes began adjusting to the glare of the hospital's overhead lights, he noticed something. This was the first time in over three years that his mother and sister had been in the same room together.

"The doctor said that he has four broken ribs."

"Yes, and a pretty severe concussion."

Ryou watched as the two women fawned over the hard luck teen. It had been almost twelve hours since they'd been rescued from the apartment, twelve hours of waiting rooms and trepidation. It had been the worst night of his life. Seeing Bakura carried out on the stretcher, still screaming for Mariku, had been too much to bear, and when he learned that Malik had been _shot!_ Ryou had practically died of worry.

"How is he?"

Ryou turned to meet Yami's impressive gaze. "He seems a bit confused, but at least he's conscious."

"That's good. I…" The star haired boy frowned. "…I can't help feeling responsible for this. I mean Anubis…well…he was my father. I should have been able to stop him!"

Ryou sighed. "Don't feel bad. There was nothing you could have done."

"I-I know. It's just…look at him, Ryou! Look at what he did to Marik! How could anyone be so…"

"It's not your fault." The slightly taller teen gave Yami a sad smile. "Whatever turned Anubis into the monster he became has nothing to do with you. It's not your fault he killed my family, and it's not your fault that you're his son. As for Marik, I know he'll forgive you because, well, there's nothing to forgive. You aren't to blame for this, Atemu."

Yami nodded. "You're right, Ryou. I…thank you." He brushed his bangs from his face with trembling fingers. "It's just a bit of a shock is all."

* * *

In another part of the hospital, the second Bakura brother was having a heated argument with his father.

"Damnit, Dad! I'm fine!"

"Bullshit!" Gaijin glared down at his bedridden son. "You're not leaving this room!"

Ignoring the throbbing sensation in his head and reset broken arm, Bakura dragged himself to the edge of the mattress. "I _have_ to see him!"

"He's fine! The doctor said so herself. Your…friend…is in perfectly stable condition!"

"I don't care! I HAVE TO SEE HIM!"

"You're not going anywhere! For the love of GOD, Touzouko! You could have been killed! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Using what little self control he had left, the teen forced himself to calm down. "I know that, Dad, but Marik could have died too. I mean, he hasn't even woken up yet! What if he just…"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP! That _boy_ will be fine! It's the people who really matter that you should worry about!"

"Fuck you, Dad." Clenching his fists, Bakura stood. Gaijin reached out to stop him, but one look in his son's eyes and the man knew that he had gone too far. The teen simply brushed past him and out into the hall.

* * *

"Marik?"

The Egyptian's eyes brightened as that all too familiar voice greeted his ears. "…hey…"

Worming his way past Isis and Ishizu, Bakura knelt at the edge of the other's bed. Marik looked bad, but he was pleasantly surprised to find him awake and talking. "How are you feeling?"

The tanner of the two laughed. "Like shit. You?"

Smirking, the white haired boy tapped his new cast. "I'm not feeling too hot myself. What happened to you're head?"

Mariku fingered the bandages wrapped around his skull. "Nothing. I'll be fine."

"But…"

"Seriously, Touzouko. I'm okay." As painstakingly as he could, the Egyptian pulled himself into a sitting position. "When do you think they'll let us out of here?"

"One more night at least." Isis frowned at her newly reunited brother. "They want to make sure you don't have any overlooked injuries."

"Oh." Marik leaned back against the pillow. It wasn't like he really had a home to go back to anyway. "Hey, where's Malik?"

"The police are still questioning him," Ryou replied from the back of the room. I think they'll have some questions for you a little later also."

"What kind of questions?"

"They'll need your point of view on what happened and probably a description of previous abuse."

Yami's words caused Marik to shiver. His mother most certainly knew about the beer bottle incident now. He hadn't meant for her to find out, not like this. Turning to her, he felt even worse. Her hair was messy, and an ugly bruise had begun to form on her cheek where Anubis had hit her. "Mom, I'm…really sorry about this."

"Don't be." Ishizu ran a delicate hand through her son's hair. "If there's anyone to be blamed it's me."

"But…"

Marik's words dropped to nothing as two new figures appeared in the doorway. It was Malik, being pushed by Rishid in a wheelchair. His arm was in a sling and there was some discoloration around his wrists and ankles, but other than that the boy looked fine.

"Hey."

An awkward silence filled the room as Malik's eyes moved from Isis to Marik to his mother and back to Isis.

"H-how is everyone?"

Bakura nodded slightly. "We're fine. Yourself?"

"I…Mom?"

Ms. Ishtar was walking towards him. Slowly, afraid that he would push her away, she knelt down and pulled Malik into a loose embrace. "Malik…"

The teen couldn't help himself. Burying his face into the woman's shoulder, he began to cry. He slid from the wheelchair and curled up against her. "I-I'm so sorry! It shouldn't have…shouldn't have been like this!"

"Shh…don't be. It's okay." Trying not to squeeze him too tight because of his injured shoulder, Ishizu allowed her own tears to fall. Finally, after years of estrangement and one night of hell, her family was coming back together.

Bakura blinked in surprise as Marik slipped his hand into his own. He wasn't smiling, but the paler teen could tell that he was happy. His eyes glinted in a way he'd never seen before, and the Egyptian's body was for once completely relaxed. Bakura allowed a miniscule smile to play at his lips.

Alarmed by the sound of sobbing coming from the room, Gaijin finally summoned the willpower to enter. The scene that greeted him was as confusing as it was heartbreaking. Looking past Ishizu and Malik, he stared openly at his son sitting on the other boy's bed. They were holding _hands_, and…and they looked so happy. But that didn't matter. Sure Mariku was the child of one of his longtime friends, but this didn't change the fact that he was a boy. And boys didn't belong together. Still, he would wait to talk with Bakura at a time when things were less hectic. Maybe then his son would finally listen.

Gaijin turned to Isis. "I talked to the police. They've recovered all the artifacts. They'll be back in the museum by the end of the week."

The Malik and Marik's sister beemed. "That's wonderful!"

"Yeah Dad!" Ryou agreed. "Absolutely fantastic."

Bakura said nothing. He just stared at his old man, trying to read his thoughts. Something in his demeanor just wasn't right, but there was no time to think of that now. They were safe, Anubis was dead, and he was finally with the boy he loved. Leaning over he gave Mariku a soft peck on the cheek.

"Things are gonna be great from now on, Ishtar. I promise."

* * *

-TOT (Finally! This chapter gave me so much trouble. I'm still not happy with the end (it seemed a bit inconclusive and everyone's ridiculously OOC), but I'm sure the epilogue will take care of that. Thank you to everyone who reviewed or sent me emails. Both suggestions and praise for this story were much appreciated.) 


	14. Epilogue

**Our Stupid Moonlit Romance**

**Epilogue**

* * *

Summer was over. It was mid August, and school was scheduled to start in a little over two weeks. Mariku had reregistered at Domino High. He was two years behind the rest of the seniors, but by taking online classes as well as the normal curriculum, he was expected to graduate the same year as Malik and Ryou. The blonde was absolutely ecstatic. He didn't know exactly what he would do once he had his diploma, but anything was better than what he'd had before.

"It's absolutely miserable out there!"

From where he sat in the Ishtar living room, Marik turned around. Malik stood in the doorway with a bag of groceries. The fierce autumn wind had toyed with his hair, leaving it almost as unkempt as his own.

"Yeah, it looks a little bit chilly."

The younger of the two nodded and shut the door behind him. "Did Mom call?"

A slight frown crept to Marik's lips. "About an hour ago. She said she was lonely, but that she's scheduled for release in a few weeks."

"That's great." Malik tried to be positive. Ms. Ishtar had been in rehab for almost a month. It had been hard, but she was determined to see it through. She had something to live for now, a family, a life. She had put the past behind her and was ready to face the world, whether it be good or bad that came her way.

"I guess." A bit of that old, sarcastic harshness crept back into Mariku's voice. "Fucking _wonderful_…"

"Th-that's not what I meant. I'm not glad that she's lonely. I'm just happy that…"

"Damnit, I know what you mean!" Marik walked out. When he reached the guest quarters turned bedroom, the boy collapsed on his bed with a frustrated sigh. Why the_ fuck _did he always do that? Malik hadn't said anything wrong. If anything the younger Egyptian was trying to be helpful, but Marik couldn't control himself. He was still having trouble adjusting to normal life.

"You really are an ass. You know that, right?" Malik entered. His face was one of confusion and hurt.

"Look. I didn't mean to be that harsh. I just…it's hard, alright!"

"What's hard?"

Mariku dug his nails into the compliant softness of his pillow. "I don't know. I…forget about it. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters." Malik came and sat at the edge of his brother's bed. "How can you say that? If something's wrong you should tell us."

"_Nothing_ is wrong!" Marik brushed past the other and headed for the door. He needed to get out of here. The walls, it was as if they were closing in around him, coupling with his sibling's penetrating gaze to drive him completely insane.

"Fine!" Malik glared at his retreating form. "I don't know why I even bother. It's not like you give a shit!"

Marik stopped short and turned. He was shaking with some barely suppressed emotion. "I wish I was like you," he finally hissed. "But I'm not, and…and I regret that. I really do." The Egyptian tried to laugh, but the sound seemed pathetic even to his own ears. "I'm not forgiving. I'm not thoughtful. I'm not…a good person, and for that I'm sorry. " He turned to go.

"Marik, wait!" Grabbing his sibling by the shoulders, Malik spun him around. "D-don't be sorry! It's my fault. I…I'm blowing things out of proportion. I always do that. You have a right to keep things private. It's just…"

"Just what?"

Malik shook his head sadly. "It must have been so difficult, taking care of Mom like that. After all you went through…I'm surprised you don't despise her."

"It…wasn't entirely her fault."

"No, but you didn't have to stay there. You could have left anytime, but you didn't. You aren't half as horrible as you think you are, Mariku."

"Oh come on Mal…"

"I wish you knew how much I admire you for that."

For a few minutes they stood in silence. Marik stared openly at his little brother, trying to comprehend what had just been said. Did Malik mean that? He…admired him? The blonde had been many things to many people, but never…

Unnerved by the quiet, he gave the younger boy's hair a playful ruffle and turned to go. "I'm going out for a bit. See you in a few hours."

Malik opened his mouth to protest but then stopped himself. It was okay if Marik needed to get out every once in a while. It was just how he was. The boy knew now that Marik would be alright. They all would. Healing just took time.

* * *

Alone in his bedroom, Bakura stared, unseeing, out the window. He'd gotten in another fight with his father, and, as usual, it was about Marik. At first they had been reasonable, each laying out his case. Then Gaijin had made the mistake of calling the Egyptian a fag, and things had gone downhill from there. The end result had been a screaming match. Father and son had yelled at each other until their lungs gave out before the man had become fed up and stormed out.

Bakura sighed. Just when things were starting to come together. Why did he have to go and fuck everything up?

"Touzouko!" A pounding on the door. "Damnit, Touzouko! Let me in!"

The teen sprawled out on his bed, suddenly very tired. "It's unlocked." A momentary silence filled the air. Then the door swung open with a slight creak.

"I only want what's best for you." The elder Bakura sat down exhaustedly at the foot of his son's bed. "That's all I've ever wanted."

"What's best for me?" The white haired boy sat up and rolled his eyes. "How the hell do _you _know what's best for me? You don't even know what's best for yourself!"

"I…listen, I'm trying! I am really, _really_ trying! You took their deaths hard. Hell, we all did! But this whole sneaking out thing, the drinking, the clubs, the stupid gay boy fad, it's just…"

"Fad? Shit Dad, you don't know the first thing about me!This isn't about Mom or Amane. Hell, this isn't even about you! It's about me! Why can't you accept that?" Getting to his feet, Bakura turned to go.

"Touzouko wait!" Gaijin grasped desperately at his son's shoulder. "Just tell me what I need to do! I can fix this! I'll make everything right!"

Almost gently Bakura pulled away. The sincerity in his father's voice was in a way surprising. He actually felt that this was somehow his fault. Still, this didn't change things. "I don't know why I waste my time with you. You'll never understand."

Gaijin Bakura didn't reply. He just stood there, watching dumbly as his son left the house. When the boy's Civic was finally out of sight, he fixed himself a drink and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Dad?"

The man looked up. "What is it, Ryou?"

"I-I have to talk to you about something. It's kind of important."

* * *

The pulse of the music consumed him completely, its rhythm rattling his heartstrings. A throaty moan escaped Marik's lips as he danced. Club Khonsu was very crowded, and every which way he turned the Egyptian was greeted by throngs of people.

"Hey sweetheart. Wanna dance?"

The man was in his early twenties, dark eyes, killer body, skin a light shade of cinnamon. Even his lust-filled voice was a low and practiced purr. Mariku ignored him completely. He was here for the sole purpose of relieving his frustration. There would be no one night stands in the club's darkest corners, no midnight flings left to be forgotten. No matter what happened, the blonde would never allow himself to revert back to that level of desperation.

Someone grabbed him from behind, and the Egyptian froze, only to relax moments later when he heard that familiar voice.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that, Kura." Marik turned and nipped playfully at his lover's lower lip. "I was about ready to kick your ass."

"It was worth the risk." Bakura pulled him into a kiss, grunting in satisfaction as the Egyptian began to grind against him. Sliding his hand over the curve of Marik's ass and back between his legs, the paler boy pulled them even closer. As they danced the crowds of Club Khonsu melted away. They were aware of nothing but the music, of their own ragged breathing and the maddening heat that coursed within their veins.

Marik's head lolled back obscenely as the other planted kisses on his neck and collar bone. Pushing the blonde's shirt up past his chest, Bakura dipped lower and lower.

"…Touzouko…"

Eyes hooded with lust, Mariku wondered if the teen was going to suck him off right there on the dance floor. That probably wasn't a good idea. Taking into consideration their previous antics at the club, such an event would most likely end in permanent expulsion.

Fortunately this wasn't what Bakura had in mind. Instead he stopped just above the hemline of his pants. The scar was still incredibly vivid. It stood out pale and unapologetic against the Egyptian's otherwise perfectly bronzed skin.

Marik tried to pull away, but Bakura held him tightly by the hips. He could sense the shame and anger pouring from the other boy, emotions so hot they bordered stifling.

"…shh…s'okay baby…don't be scared…"

"I-I'm not!"

The Egyptian closed his eyes, trying to ward off the waves of animosity he now felt towards the other teen. Who did Touzouko think he was, messing with him like this? He thought he'd cared. He thought he'd be the last person to…

A low, almost inaudible whimper welled up in Marik's throat as Bakura brushed his lips across the cords of roughened flesh. Tenderly, Bakura traced the scar with his tongue, soothing away the tension of the muscles that lay beneath.

"…w-what are you…" But as the kisses continued the Egyptian found himself at a loss for words. He buried his hands in the other's snowy hair, inexpressible but unbelievably sincere emotions sending jitters down his spine.

Meeting his lover's gaze, Bakura gave the mark a final caress before rising and pulling the blonde tight against his chest.

What had his life been like before he met the seductive Egyptian? Bakura couldn't even remember. Everything prior to that fateful night at Club Khonsu was so dim, the shadow of some forgotten fantasy. He remembered vaguely a time when he had loved another dark-skinned angel. It seemed a million years away, those lonesome days spent pining for the favor of Malik Ishtar. Yet even at the height of his obsession, Bakura had never felt for him as he felt for Marik. He had thought he loved the younger blonde, but that was before he knew what love really was.

_...I love you Marik Ishtar…_

He didn't have to say it. It was in his eyes, in his heart, in the moisture still glistening on his lips. To this day Bakura didn't understand what set the blonde apart. How was it that he could tear from him so much passion? Holding Mariku's body against his own sent such a rush of lust, joy, and insatiable fascination coursing through him, that the teen really felt he was about to collapse.

Marik too was having trouble keeping on his feet. Dizzy from the sensation of Bakura's lips, he fell heavily against the other's chest. The paler boy's unspoken words echoed through the caverns of his mind. Their relationship was taboo, never meant to be, yet somehow it had worked. In a violently bizarre and beautifully stupid way, they had managed to finally be together.

"I love you too, Bakura."

A blush of surprise tinted the paler's cheeks, and he pulled the boy into an even tighter embrace. A new, slower song came on, and once more they began to dance. They clung to each other for support, each thoroughly intoxicated by the other's hot, caressing hands. They danced until they were completely exhausted, exiting the club only when their legs threatened to give out. Under the bluish glow of the neon moons Marik pulled Bakura into a brutal kiss.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

Bakura smirked at his lover's irresistibly insane grin. "Where to?"

"Your car."

"My wha…" But already Mariku was leading him towards the Civic. He smiled crazily. His eyes glimmered with an unhinged, almost feral light. Suddenly Bakura understood. "I know this place," he whispered huskily, licking the shell of the other's ear. "It's on the other side of town. No one ever goes there."

The Egyptian let out a sharp, piercing, maddeningly enticing laugh. "Sounds perfect."

* * *

Gaijin Bakura was still up when his eldest son returned. He had spent the past several hours trying to comprehend what Ryou had told him. So they were both gay. It was weird. He wasn't half as angry as he'd expected. In all reality the man was simply too shocked to feel anything short of confusion. Why? Where had he gone wrong? Something Touzouko had said rang a distant bell in the back of the man's mind.

"_Shit Dad, you don't know the first thing about me!"_

And it was true. He didn't. When it came to Touzouko, he was completely oblivious. He remembered his conversation with Ryou. The boy had tried to help him understand, but Gaijin was just too blind to see it. He was too bitter, too stuck in his ways. When Ryou had finally left to visit Malik the man was more confused than ever.

There was a squeal of tires out front, and he looked out the window to see Marik and his son exiting the car. They stumbled up the driveway, laughing crazily the entire way. It had been a long time since the elder Bakura had seen the boy so giddy. His usual cold expression had been replaced by an actual grin. His eyes, always so angry, were bright and almost careless.

By the glow of the streetlights, the man watched as the two embraced. They held each other tightly, Bakura's face buried in the other's clinging hair. They were so happy. Despite all that had happened, despite the pain and the fury and horrible, soul-crushing loneliness that had dominated the past few months, they were really happy.

The two teens remained together a while longer, conversing in low, almost reverent tones. Then, with a final kiss, Mariku began making his way up the street. Bakura lingered a moment, watching his retreating form, before he too turned and began walking towards the house. It seemed the instant the Egyptian was no longer with him, the paler teen had reverted back to his usual self. He now walked with his head down, hands jammed deep within his pockets.

Gaijin Bakura closed his eyes. He listened to the door slam, to his son's footsteps coming up the stairs. It was true. He was a horrid father. It wasn't that he didn't know his son. It was that he'd never really tried. For years the man had only understood what he wanted the boy to be, not what he actually was…a jaded, harsh-spoken youth who could love as passionately as he hated, who was at once cruel and violent and terribly brave, who was in love with a boy even more dangerous than himself and didn't care who knew it. Yes, this was Touzouko Bakura, and the man realized something. He was okay with it. He was okay with it because cruelty was human, faults were human, and, in all its forms, so was love.

"Dad?"

The boy stood in the hallway, face illuminated by the moonlight leaking through the window. His voice was uncharacteristically calm. "I'm back."

The older male didn't reply. He didn't have to. His acceptance radiated from every pore, tacit yet practically audible in its purity. Touzouko sensed it and, after a moment of stunned silence, he smiled.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Touzouko."

* * *

As he lay in bed that night Bakura reflected on the many people who had shaped who he was. He was grateful to all of them. To his mother, for her sacrifice. To Malik and Ryou, who had shown him the importance of letting go. Then there was his father, who without knowing it had taught Bakura patience…and the importance of holding strong to what you believed in. Even Anubis, in his own way, had instilled in him an invaluable lesson. Never allow yourself to dwell too long in the past. The people in your life today are all that matter. And what really mattered was Mariku.

Because Mariku had taught Bakura the most important thing of all. That it was okay to feel, okay to laugh and to cry and to love until you thought your heart would break. It was okay to do all these things because they were what made life bearable. Without beauty, without hardship, without pain and happiness and forgiveness and loss, the best things would be left unappreciated, and existence would lose all meaning. Bakura didn't want that. He wanted to taste the world, to explore it in all its fatal glory. He wanted to feel everything, because if you weren't going to live life to the fullest then why the hell were you here in the first place? Mariku had taught him this, and for that he was truly thankful.

* * *

**-UsuakariTOT** (It's done! I can't believe it! I've finally finished it. I hope you liked the epilogue. I tried to incorporate as many of your suggestions into it chapter as I could, but I'm sorry for the ones I missed. For the millionth time I would like to thank everyone who took time to review. You can't imagine how much it means to me.) 


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